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There Are No Clouds

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Cast off the mooring ropes at bow and stern Head out into the early morning mist Hoist the big mainsail, free the jib, and turn Feeling the filling canvas make her list The venerable diesel chugs and splutters Its smoky wraith lingering in our wake We weave our way between sloops and cutters Cleaving across crests beginning to break Waves slap the hull and slither down the deck We've left the strident seagulls far behind The lighthouse beam pales as we pass the wreck Whose rusting iron ribs still groan and grind We round the point and catch the tidal flow Astern, a fresh Force 4 lends us its wings No engine needed now. I go below And listen to the sounds that silence brings An inner peace surfaces in this calm Quietly floating all one’s stress away Silence with stillness - a heavenly balm That heals the damage of each crazy day I go up top and breathe in salty air Now, far away from the jostling crowds I adjust my eyes to the sun’s bright glare And scan the horizon - there are no clouds

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