For my Union brother, David, who was cast away...like so much garbage.
So many vessels
Ply the seas
Towards the land
Through the waves
And for name
But woe to those whose fodder
Includes the souls of men
For storms and reefs await them
The goal of all the vessels; the final destination of literally every ship at sea…was the mythical land of “Gain.” This port of plenty; this harbor of “have,” inspired the great shipyards--those that employed thousands of likeminded souls, for generations, to produce great liners and dreadnoughts--as well as the father and son craftsmen who would fashion every trunnel and transome by hand; and every seafaring industry inbetween--to build sailing craft able to traverse the great watery expanse from birth…to Gain. One such vessel, a great behemoth of a boat, was constructed of the finest U.S steel and, upon its ceremonious launch, it violently churned towards the goal; the captain, Profit, firm at the helm. However, though his command was absolute, his judgment was tempered by the knowledge that his crew, were but men. And so, allowances for “humanity” were incorporated into the orders of the day until, that is, Captain Profit…went mad. From that moment on, the attainment of “Gain” was all that mattered and, although there were feigned acknowledgements of other pilots--Honor, Truth, Nobility, Safety, Compassion, Patriotism--none of these were allowed even a finger on the wheel, but were only window dressing for the wandering eye. And, as time progressed, and some of the crew became weak and wearied and sickly under the constant strain of the trembling transport, some, dangerously approaching the rail…were allowed to fall off. And others, having given the lion’s share of their meager lives to the ship and clinging desperately on for dear life; these, under the captains orders…were pushed. And, as these fell into the merciless sea, and some were sucked under and across the jagged steel hull…ending as pieces on the other side of the heartless screws; as their blood colored the expansive, boiling wake…the captain could not be bothered. For “his” eyes…were only …for Gain.
You know, in this brief and often bitter journey of life, the important things must, must! be those of the living. True, all of us are on a journey to Gain; and Profit is at the wheel. However, those who are wise will make sure the tiller’s touch is shared by Care, and Compassion, and Concern and, if a temporary turning is needed to stop to rescue a fellow traveler, a needful neighbor, then I believe that these Honorable vessels will be granted aiding currents, fair winds and following seas, and a sure portage…at Gain. But, to the others? To those who sacrifice all for Gold? These will attract the burg, the storm, and the reef and will, no doubt, sink before they reach safe harbor. Farewell, David, you are not forgotten.
That’s what I think. How about you? Click comments below…and say.