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My Fellow Adventurers

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I often wonder
How I could navigate this earth, explore this plane,
Without my fellow adventurers:
Those who share my chocolate irises, my brushstrokes of freckles.
I wonder
What it would be like not to have a first mate as a roommate for twelve years, a bowswain across the hall,
To help guide this worried ship on her maiden voyage through choppy waters.
I wonder
Who swabs the deck when tears soak the oak floor?
Who would help lay the course across a cartographer's nightmare, an unmarked territory, when the captain is unable to?
Who would pour love and compassion, comfort and affection, disappointment and anger, temperament and misunderstanding, apologies and advice, caring for this ship, an unruly and inexperienced vessel?
I wonder
Who would worry about her as much as she worries about getting them safely to their destinations, wherever they may be?
We share bedrooms and maps, sweaters and fishing poles, books and lanterns.
There are knots that tie us together, barrel knots and clove hitches and unnumerable wires and pulleys that bind us to one another that can never be broken by waves crashing over the hull or a squall breaking overhead.
We sail across an ocean constructed of blankets across the living room floor, pulling each other along.
I wonder
What happens to a ship with no hands on deck?
It must be so incredibly lonely.




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