The Ship That Sailed Away


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Author Unknown

I am standing upon the shore. 
A ship at my side 
spreads her white sails to the morning breeze 
and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength, 
and I stand and watch her 
until she hangs like a speck of white cloud 
out where the sea and sky meet 
and mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, 
"There.  She is gone." 
Gone where? 
Gone from my sight, 
that is all.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. 
She is just as true in mast and hull and spar 
as she was when she left my side, 
and just as able to bear her load of living freight 
to her destination.

And at that same moment 
when someone at my side says, 
"There.  She is gone." -- 
other eyes are watching her coming, 
and other voices take up the glad shout, 
"Here she comes!"

And this is dying.