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Sails are set, moorings offed, and weighty anchor drawn,

As wide expanse of open sea, lures from safety’s harbor.

Rising winds fill my sails, follow tracks beneath the surface.

Heed is given to sacred call; firm, I set my course.

Fearful tremors break the calm as backward glance is taken;

Familiar shore’s horizon seen, fading in the distance.

Will I trust in guided Wind, loose my hands from off the wheel?

Face is turned again towards bow, heavy silence fills the helm.

Slowly fingers give release, passing rein to Spirit’s hand.

Arms not fallen, but lifted up, held high in winds of Peace.

Fear abandoned, full the sails–

No need to hold the rudder.