We must smile
"How do you smile?!" came the cry.
The ship is battered and splinter-worn, salt-lathed under iron clouds. Dark with anger, the ocean storms against prow and hull.
"The light is warm upon my face," I easily respond. Amber-gold glimmered the sun, resting on the horizon.
"Clouds gather and swarm. Do you forget where we are? Do you not fear the storm we sail?" the question is anxiety-taut.
Froth-churned waves rise and ride high on sea-torn hull.
"I do not forget. I feel the danger," I reply, clean air deep in my lungs, the wind at my back.
"Then I ask again. How do you smile?" he shouts this time, knuckle-bound to the ship, gravity-drawn and downward-pitched over knife-point of the wave.
"Because if I only fret and our fears do not come to pass, I have wasted my time worrying.
If I only despair and our fears come true, still I have wasted time.
I deny neither storm nor fear. Both drown me, often.
But sun-kissed moments can be wrested from life. Joy can be firm-held in eyebright wonder.
Happiness is soul-air, and we must breathe.
Laughter is clean water, and we must drink.
To survive this storm, we must smile."
Into the tempest we ride.
The wind and waves sing death and sorrow.
Still, we smiled.