I sail this sailboat
without a course, night and day.
Oceans of silence,
ports that cannot be seen.
Sailboat like a butterfly,
its white wings bound
to masts of nostalgia
inherited from other lives.
Simple nutshell
on the wild waters,
heart that trembles
on its drifting journey.
Deep blue waters,
a gentle sailboat tilts,
trying to withstand
the storm that shakes it.
The sun that slowly peeks out,
its faint rays becoming
more visible, is just an illusion
to prolong the agony.
My solitary sailboat
made of moon and poetry,
guided by the stars
on an ungrateful voyage.
All that remains is to navigate
elusive currents,
embracing hope
and celebrating each day.
Author: Alexandra 6/4/2025