Sparrow

He's not going to stop,
Until the search is finished,
A sailor in his little boat for two.
No land in sight,
And the dawn casting orange creamsicle swirls,
Over glassy waves.
Though his hands are dry from the salt,
And his lips are cracked from the breeze,
They will always be soft,
And they will always be there.
Withered ropes drawn tight,
And insatiable thirst on his tongue,
He stares at a sky without rain clouds,
And wonders how a world filled with water,
Could be so dry.
Running fingers along the surface of the sea,
What monsters hide in the dark,
Guarding sunken ships filled with rusty jewels,
Mermaids singing songs of heartache,
Jealous of his two feet.
He sees the tiny sparrow flutter by,
Almost skimming the surface of orange and blue,
He's almost home,
He has to be.
Waking up his passenger with excitement,
With energy,
And the two laugh, and scream,
They begin to paddle,
And they know they are free.