General

Into the bonny waves, toward a sun between rise and set, the ship drew her wake with steady and confident ease.

General

The rock-a-bye deck with gentle drunken swagger, brought a kind of destitute lull, yet the kind hope-kissed and smile-warmed in sweet chaotic providence.

General

The hushing of the ship's wake was our lullaby, anaesthesia for our sea monster fears, allowing the audacity of hope to enter our waking dreams.

General

In a tin can of air, a bubble of souls, we set sail into a cradle of blues.