Like baby butterflies, they float on the waves;
In the shadow of the rescue boat, they are so brave.
Bouncing, bobbing, running into one another,
It's clear they haven't mastered the use of a rudder.
It must be on purpose that they heel over so gleefully;
I suspect this isn't what their instructors want to see.
Round and round they sail about the practice bouys
Many days will pass before they're ready for open seas.
Learning to master the wind, a treat for these girls and boys,
That gives the old salts a way to relive their youthful joys.
Dreams of riding the waves on the open sea,
A fantasy of what it means to feel truly free.
But even this freedom requires many disciplines,
That must learn before our adventures begin.
Without it, we chase each other in an endless loop,
Yawing and broaching on our rudderless sloops.