Sun-bleached triangles standing straight and true

Against a deep blue background peaking white,

They lean against the wind, fight their way through

The frothy sea before day turns to night,

When sailors lose their way if not prepared

To use the heavens as their best device

For finding home–their intellect laid bare

Against nature, whose fury makes the price

Of failure steeper even than the risk

Considered. Seamen know what lies ahead

Will daunt the wisest of them, but insist

On taking every chance. With sense of dread,

They venture forward, eye fixed on the prize,

Success the only outcome they surmise.