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A wooden boat rests by the bay
Its ropes are tied its sails still lay
The tide’s not come the wind’s asleep
Yet still its vows the timbers keep
It dreams of waves beyond the line
Of salted air of stars that shine
But knows the sea will choose the hour
When journey blooms in perfect power
You say the heart should hold like this—
Prepared for risk prepared for bliss
To wait with faith to stand with poise
Till time calls forth its destined noise
At dawn the tide comes rushing fast
The ropes release the sail’s held fast
And all the waiting finds its flow—
The boat now moves where dreams must go
