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Mother Careys Chickens
mother carey’s chickens scream
as they slide just above wave height
following our creaming wake
as we plough forwards on to night.
there is a peculiar type of silence
in that dark not dark out here at sea
more of a reverenced muted hush
as the stars break suddenly free
to pinpoint the arched non darkness
as the waves break and hiss
rolling surely around our hull
like a mother’s all embracing kiss
and the water seem to beckon me
tempt me but mange somehow to fail
night after night calling to me
as I press hard against the rail
and mother carey’s chickens
heel and glide and swerve around
joining their soulful calling
to the other oceanic sounds
and in the enclosure of the night
midway to the approaching morn
I can understand a call to dying
for it seems far too far to dawn
and the orchestra of nature still
plays its solemn unconcerned air
calling always calling
for you to join it there
there is a certain time when
the will to win that fight
seems to want to ebb away
and then suddenly first light
mother carey’s chickens salute
you’ve managed to survive
yet one more night at sea
and come through it alive
but our voyage is just started
maybe it will prove too long
and I or someone like me
will succumb to the siren song
mother carey’s chickens
role and glide and scream
dive through your sleep
to enter into your dream
it’s all part of fascination
of a life spent on the sea
as though I’m a part of nature
and that same nature’s part of me
Copyright ©
Terry Ireland
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