The Horizon Tilts (Poem)

Rays danced and dipped along the shimmering waves,
bobbing the boat as the boy sat on its edge.
Hit feet touched the water,
lifted into the air,
and skimmed the water again,
only to repeat this pattern time and time again.

His quiet hands grasped the wooden side,
splintered with age and disrepair,
cracked paint as a faint image forgotten to time.
Everything on the surface of the sea smelled of serenity and despair.

The wind picked up slightly,
tossing and turning his salty hair,
covering and uncovering eyes staring out,
wondering why his boat had come this far,
when the currents should be pulling him further in.

Then, the true siren of the sea beckoned,
watery hands full of beauty and silence,
and he slipped into her depths,
leaving a boat that turned silently back towards shore and hope.