My Father's Dream

My Father's Dream

A wide and vast horizon beckons me to enter there

where oceans echo ancestral voices and gulls paint images in the air.

The Saxons and Angles, Hansas and Norse of Hamburg, Oslo, Kiel and Gdansk

flows through my blood where the sea is my home.

Father, do you miss never having lived your dream of sailing around the world as  you told me when I was young?

No, son, I am older now, and I lived my dream.  Just standing here with you and looking across the horizon from this Golden Gate is enough for me, now.

And yet, I know, in some small way, I see from his eyes a glimpse of hope that I will fulfill his dreams in my future.

Now the book is closed, and my sermon is said.

My father rests but his dreams are not dead.

With tiller in hand and a gaze across the sea… I live my fathers’ dreams, and his father’s, and his before… sailing off to full fill my dreams… and reunite one day on God’s given glorious shore.


Martin Braun
2/14/2025

Thank you, dad, my Captain.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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Mckeithan Avatar
February 14, 2025 at 8:37 AM
Wonderful poem. May you have a fair wind at your back and smooth seas.
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