Can you imagine what it is to cross an ocean?
For weeks, you see nothing but the horizon, perfect and empty.
You live in the grip of fear, fear of storms, fear of sickness on board, fear of the immensity.
So you must drive that fear from deep into your belly, study your charts, watch your compass, pray for a fair wind and hope, pare, naked, fragile hope.
At first, it's no more than a haze on the horizon.
So you watch. You watch.
Then it's a smudge, a shadow on the far water for a day, for another day.
The stain slowly spreads along the horizon taking form until on the third day.
You let yourself believe you dare to whisper the word "land, land", "life", "resurrection".
The true adventure coming out of the vast unkown, out of immensity in to new life that, you majesty, is the New World.
When the storm breaks, each man acts in accordance with his own nature. Some are dumb with terror, some flee, some hide, and some spread their wings like eagles and soar on the wind.
HD
