Manifesto Whispers

I can hear the water pour off the anchors as they leave the sea bed and lock into the hulls of the Pinta, Niña and Santa Maria. Did the sailors fearfully whisper to each other, or to themselves, as the wooden ships creaked and left the dock? Did Columbus entertain a silent whispered thought of doubt? The horizon visually was flat. Would they fall off the earth like an orange on the ship’s table during a storm? Without the aid of a telescope, Copernicus stood in a private observatory, like a watchman in a ship’s crow’s nest, and watched the heavens. His fixated eyes and calculations whispered a story to his brain so vastly different than the world knew. A man has walked on the moon and we’ve long since broken through both the sound barrier and the Berlin Wall. Conceived in a vision, a gut feel, a dream and, perhaps, a bit of a dare the whispered seeds have revolutionized and forever changed the world we now inhabit.
       So when I ponder my own dreams and dares and tip toe my way towards my goals, what have I to fear? I will whisper but I will also shout ‘I can.’ The whispers of my dreams are the chords waiting for the piano’s strings to free their melody. When the sailors, scientists, politicians, astronauts and ‘common knowledge’, masquerading my fears, glance back to the port, to what was, they will not see me standing on the dock. I am my ship’s figurehead. I will play with the waves and dance with the dolphins as I sail towards my horizon. In the crow’s nest I will watch for the Promised Land but I will not ignore the joy of now as the wind, clouds, sun and moon whisper and sing when there is no land. I can hear the water pour off the anchors. The night’s stars are calling me. Can you hear the whisper?