by Michael Plante

Can you see yourself floating on the seas
in a little craft;
waves lapping
the sun is shining
a slight breeze brushes your cheek
a cloud rolls by to say “Hello”
and you laugh because it looks like a smile?


At that moment you can become anything you like
go anywhere you want
speak to anyone you please.
Nothing dares to hold you back.
You think, this is such a fine time to be alive
and you’re right.
You drift upon the ocean blue.
You then fall into a daze wherein you travel to places unknown
and listen to things not yet thought of
while the midnight sun passes you by.
The dreamers dream and wait in silence
but for you its much more than that.
The oars are set, the new sun rises
and there’s so much more you need to know.


So, you head towards tomorrow’s rise
with strength and determination.
“Let the dreamers dream” you say aloud, for I am alive and well.
It’s not for you to sit and squander
or wait for opportunity to arrive.
Instead, you travel towards the shores
where opportunity awaits.


As the sun sits high you ponder your thoughts,
am I cocky or arrogant in my thinking
that I can achieve my desired goal?
And that cloud that smiled long ago passes by you again.
So you take that as a sign to continue
smiling like the ominous cloud.


The oars of life are in your hands  
as you close your eyes upon the ocean blue.
That gentle breeze starts to change
and the shore you were traveling towards
disappears beyond your sight.


The lapping waves are no more
and you open your eyes to the reality of your existence.
The craft is being pounded by swells unimagined
and the sky has gone gray with the threat of a storm.
You ponder your thoughts and think to yourself
this was not what I anticipated when I left.
And you grip the oars tighter as the waves wash over the sides.


The rain comes fast and hard stinging the skin as it hits your face
and your demeanor changes to adapt to your situation.
I shall survive you say to yourself
as waves hit your craft and drenches your clothing.
Lightening crosses overhead and thunder shakes your body
the roaring sound of the ocean deafens everything around
but your thoughts remain intact.
And a childhood song leaves your lips as you laugh hysterically in the madness of this storm

I’s the b’y that builds the boat
And I’s the b’y that sails her
I’s the b’y that catches the fish
And brings them home to Lizer…


Hip your partner Sally Thibault
Hip your partner Sally Brown
Fogo, Twillingate, Moreton’s Harbour
All around the circle!


“Where are you now cloud?” you scream to the sky above.
And the day continues and darkness grows.


Somewhere in your thoughts you start to think back to when you were a kid;
you see yourself sitting at home at the kitchen table.
You can see your mom cooking away.
Its summertime, windows are open and a gentle wind moves the sheers slightly.
The chatter of pots and pans ring true a thought,
No matter where you are, and no matter where you go,
you’ll always carry a piece of home with you.


“Am I about to die”, you ask.
“Rhetorical!” you scream back at yourself.


So, you grab the oars with more determination and vigor.
I shall go deaf in this madness or I shall die trying, you think to yourself.
And in the same darkness where the dreamers dream you enter a battle for survival.
The pounding waves force back your efforts
but the calluses are hard and you feel no pain.
Lightening threatens you, yet you’ve nothing more to lose.
The thunder vibrates your soul; yet your laughter is louder.
And some place where the dreamers dream you’ve awoken with a smile.


I’s the b’y that builds the boat
And I’s the b’y that sails her
I’s the b’y that catches the fish
And brings them home to Lizer…

Hip your partner Sally Thibault
Hip your partner Sally Brown
Fogo, Twillingate, Moreton’s Harbour
All around the circle!


Exhaustion leads a soul to the perfect dream.
And somewhere in the darkness
the waves settle and the rain stops.
Silence is so eerie it’s now a stranger to you.
The clouds above give way to the universe
and you sit there in awe of the dreamer’s delight.
The magnitude of your existence is reveled
that you are just a dot on the sea.
Yet you can marvel at the vastness of something far greater than yourself.
And come to appreciate your position within that greatness.


You start to hum that old tune from your childhood
And close your eyes as the dream escapes your grasp.


You’ve been sleeping more that you know it,
and time has passed you by without pity.
A gull wakes you to where you are
Still floating in your craft
still holding the oars that got you here.
You look around and much to your surprise land is near.
So, you say goodbye to the gull and row towards land.
Vigor has diminished
and determination is just a grain of sand free-falling in an hourglass.


The craft you ride has now worn beyond repair,
you drag it upon the sandy beach and flip it over.
The oars you toss back into the ocean of blue.
“Let the dreamers find them”, you say.
So, you turn your back to conclude this part of your journey.
And head towards the land where opportunity awaits.

-end-


I’s The B’y Song and Lyrics

“First transcribed by folklorist Kenneth Peacock in St. John’s in 1951, two years after Newfoundland entered Confederation, I’s the B’y was likely originally a favourite at local kitchen parties, being transmitted orally for several decades before the first transcriptions and recordings were made”
Source Canadian Song Writer’s Hall of Fame
Lyrics provided by Wikipedia.
Composer Unknown

Image: A Sailor At Sea Downloaded From StockCake.