Beneath facades we through culture acquire
Do elements, hid, yet call to our souls?
Are voices of water and wind and fire
Invoking our vision to bounty below?
Amidst all the din of dailiness, greed,
Does ought find our ear from such treasures as these?

The Water awaits, a succulent source,
Mysterious, lurking, placid but deep,
Absorbing all ships who alter their course
In search of a brighter, richer retreat.
The sailors sunk in this watery world
Dissolved, find delight in darkness's pearls.

Back on the surface and under new Sail,
Spirited by a benevolent Wind,
Buoyed by riches, emboldened by tales,
The seekers who sought, with New Salt are cleansed.
Viewing the world from the helm of their minds,
All hindrances heaved, the sailing's Divine.

Molten, immense, from the east does emerge
A slumbering Sol who stretches, then yawns,
Emitting a carpet of Fire whose verge
As seen from the boat finds apex at dawn.
With rigging ablaze and "No fear!" their cry,
The sailors are pulled down the path...or they die.