Early morning on a winter’s day.

We speed down the forever-bustling avenue – 

now clad in dawn’s gentle hues –   

covering the grey ugliness from the surrounding buildings, 

subduing the glare of the neon lights outside strip joints  

exhibiting large, badly painted posters of semi-naked women 

posing in provocative poses, 

the hint of frost in the air chilling my eyes, 

the tip of my nose,

and we reach the port.

Excitement builds

as I smell engine fuel,

hear voices of fellow passengers waiting to board, 

tickets held firmly in their hands.

The boat rattles to life,

slight swaying and we’re off.

I stand on the deck,

watch as the prow slices the water’s surface,

each new wave resembling the last, 

yet, every wave is different.

I smell the sea breeze, fresh, waking my senses,

my hair blowing haphazardly around me,

feel the winter sun on my face –  

it leaves no mark of its ever having touched me, 

crisp and translucent as it is – 

but I am changed.

Life imitates nature

creating differences invisible to the everyday eye, 

unless we step back far enough  

to gain the full picture.