He was a powerful ship,
a three-masted schooner
with a cape that caught the wind
and glided, flew across the blue ocean,
a smooth and glassy surface unbroken
excepting the white sea foam trailing behind the ship
as he made his way toward greater horizons.
At the end of each trip he would rest
and lower his anchor to tightly hold
fast and steady through the night.
The anchor was well-crafted. It held the ship
comfortably in sunny, tranquil days
and sturdily in stormy violent nights.
Through days of calm
and days of storm
the anchor remained
holding the ship steadfast.
But a single chain link
that held the anchor
began to rust.
The defect went unnoticed.
And then the day came
when the anchor was lowered
but the chain snapped—
Into the depths sank the anchor—
The ship was alone without so much
as thread keeping him in touch
with the ocean’s bed
and he drifted
blown by the winds of time.
And when the storms came
he could not hold on
and he was lost in a sea of uncertainty.