Listen to poem:
On Landing
On the landing, porch boards turn to prow.
The moon bends down to kiss the bow.
With a leap over the bow, the maiden voyage ends—
Solid ground becomes place for newfound friends.
On landing, feet forget the restless sea,
And find what they were made to be.
Verandah, boat, moon and stone—
Each threshold strives to feel like our own.
We jump the bow, cross the threshold
with something new, true-blue bold.
From porch to prow, from sea to land,
We make our entrance, proud and stately grand.
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