Clipper

Written by Cyt Wednesday, 18 August 2010 10:35

Light wind blows out of the sun

Trim the sail as the head comes round

Feel the urge to be off and gone

Need to leave this crowded sound.

Before the wind at last to run

Spread the sail to catch it all

Nature’s power freely won

Take conditions as they fall.

Accelerating out, away

Take supplies to colony

Forget restrictions of the day

Time is different when free.

Before this trade-wind always flying

Supplies for all the far-flung men

Across this ocean will be plying

Homeward coming who knows when.

Measure stars against the course-plan

Navigating straight and true

Strain in guys and heat in brain-pan

Speed the darkest, deepest blue.

Bottled messages, these voices

Signals from far, far, away

Contact slim and few the choices

Square-law will soon them decay.

The boredom, centuries alone

Carrying the arts of man

Not a gramme of flesh or bone

Just thoughts alone in a tin can.

For I am crew and I am Captain

I am ship and ship is me

Sensing space, for I am ship-brain

Ever lonely, ever free.