A ship’s contents and waters to which it sails is of it’s masters choice. Where waters and currents are fast, the pace is as rapid as rough raging seas. When your pace is too quick there is no time for rest, constantly on guard, behind the wheel to navigate the waves and adjusting the sails to the winds…
Yet there is a sea, like honey from a bee
Thick, smooth, and sweet, a ship through honeyed seas cannot rush or hurry,
In those golden seas so slow, there is no need or chance to put on a show.
So I’ll sail through restful waters, I’ll leave my post, I’ll leave the wheel,
For time away I long to steal.
I’ll waltz onto the deck and simply lay out in the sun, I’ll watch the clouds float on by and slow my mind to their ponderous pace,
I’ll fill my ship with light clouds of peace and grace.
I’ll clear my ship of the heavy things – a free heart with liberating songs to sing.
Such songs are not carried off by the winds of haste, but heard and caught in the thick presence of sweet honey; a fulfilling taste.
Lay aside your maps and your compass; quell your telescope you get lost behind
Stuck behind such a future seeking scope with only one eye open - honey seas allow no such work or grind.
Both eyes open you can see what is right in front of you, no chasing horizons, but simply enjoying the view.
Sweet golden seas sparkle with gentle invitation. So satisfyingly sweet, I am need of nothing else but healing honey waters to eat.
From Grandeurs, glorious, golden seas, I can sail on into the great voyage with ease.
Sailing on and sparkling from stern to bow, if ever I need rest I know exactly where I’ll go!