Ah, but the waters are bleak and vast!
Ah, but the ocean is wide, is wide,
And Iâll not be back with the turn of the tide.
Iâll not be back when the rip tides change
And, whitely, the beaches their fingers range.
Never a pull of the moon or heart
Can summons me back from my journeyâs start.
And, only the cargo I take with me,
Will portion my way on that perilous sea
Where only the sound of a silent prayer
May fathom the waves of the outer airââ¦
- Edna Garde (see conclusion…)
My thoughts of our countrymen entering into dangerously unchartered waters caused me to take my Grandmotherâs book of poems entitled, âHARP Of One Stringâ, from the living room bookshelf and to find the one mysteriously-haunting missive written - âTo A.A.â - which I have quoted above.