Navigare

My father is a fisherman, always making sure that the bow and the stern are tied. "The anchor should not rest on the sandy sea floor but on rocks." "The ship should be positioned into the waves; do not let them roll you as there is no such thing as a gentle roll. " Navigare… “Prova… Krma… vigaj…sinistra… destra… “ Navigare… I steered my ship with the waves, them rolling me and lulling me to sleep, thinking I was safe, I only had one anchor at the prow and it was on the sandy sea floor. I did not know I was in the midst of the storm, and that my reality was already scattered into dust by the strong northern wind. Navigare… I did not heed the lesson from the fisherman. Now partly rebuilt, reshaped full of cracks and scars, I cast anchors, from the bow and the stern, and from the port and the starboard keeping my precious cargo safe. Navigare… I have a bucket of pine sap to fix the cracks, that with a strong smell bringing back my childhood amongst the pine trees. I have a binary pair of stars at the center of my universe I use to navigate. My ores are broken and dented but they still row against the waves. Navigare… Walking barefoot on salty wooden planks, I look for movement and balance. The wind is my brother and rain is my sister that soothe and steer my heart. My cargo is safe… Navigare… My cargo is safe… Navigare… My cargo is safe… Navigare…