Sun visor

what if you learned there was no agenda set by men women at sea, alone together, these forces; the stories wrote were in harmony, because, they said, the women understood the ocean's unpredictable temperament, they could balance better between the troughs and the peaks of waters so enraged with emotion, revealing mixed truths about wanting to be all powerful and commandeering and yet a burning want to be dominated and conquered and controlled and tamed by a confident unwavering and resolute force, like the firm rock strewn shore of some vast wild country. and so the women journeyed oceans, their vessels carefully caressing the curves of the ocean's bosom as if their own, to come to rest in some place new, covered with green palms or blue with ice, white sands or burnt orange sunrise. and centuries later, the tales told of their adventures are recognized and reveared, revealed to be comedies about nature's follies and vain attempts at controlling its fickle winds. and we imagine: what if these women were the sea? what if they were the sea?