PROcast in ating at its finest. šš±šļø
My Dad is a sailor and history buff who collects and holds on to everything. I say Dad. Get rid of so much crap. But hereās the guy who didnāt want to see a triple expansion steam ferry explode out at sea! So he bought it for a buck then sold his house to live in a camper and restore it. Trips to Seattle, Vancouverās edge of the sea. First time I smelled the ocean. I knew it was for me! I watched his spirit fade little by little as money flew out the door. But I carry his torch like a statue come to life. Cooper and smoke stacks from the bay. A story to tell today as landmarks awaken memory, ships that hold cars like passages of seven seas.
#dads #steam when all the last windows and time valves were taken I hugged him and said donāt worry be happy. Because thatās what he always said.
Beyond the Waves
(for the SS San Mateo and the Lady of the Harbor)
She rises not from protest,
but from the deep green breath of harborsā
torch held steady through fog and fire,
a woman robed in copper skin and iron will.
Beyond feminismās sharpened edge
lies the older quest:
Freedom that does not devour its children,
Dignity that stands unashamed in the mirror of time.
See the San Mateoā
once proud sternwheeler, green stack piercing mist,
ferrying souls across salt and sound,
mahogany gleaming, stained glass catching light.
She carried the weight of workers, lovers, dreamers,
until the river claimed her bones.
No restoration saved her hull,
yet her silhouette still whispers:
Protect what is sacred.
The journey itself was holy.
We are not asked to choose sides of the deckā
masculine mast or feminine curveā
but to guard the vessel entire.
The torch and the broken chains,
the smokestack and the silent pilings,
the mother dancing under moon with wet-haired monkeys,
the exile remembering Beirutās lost shores.
#Suicidalempathy would let the ferry burn
while praising the flames as progress. Make time to read!
True liberty says:
Enough.
Stand for the sacred fire.
Defend the harbor.
Let every tired, huddled soul arriveā
but never at the cost of the light itself.
Dignity is not a slogan.
It is the slow reflection in still water,
the refusal to sink quietly,
the quiet knowing that some thingsā
a childās laughter, a peopleās memory,
a womanās sovereign heartā
must be kept afloat.
Beyond the isms, beyond the rage,
we sail the middle passage of the soul:
questing, guarding, breathing.
The Lady lifts her torch.
The San Mateo rests in river mudā
both teaching the same eternal line:
Protect what is sacred.
Cross the water anyway.
Arrive whole.
#queenager #arc
āØ
For Ladies and gents in robe, painted gold or copper or even rose gold
#liberty
Adventures of a lady š½
Donāt let em put out your spark.