When you are out in the middle of the sea in a small boat,
Thirsty, exhausted, and burnt by the sun,
Rationing the last pint of water and last crumb of bread,
With nothing but an abyss of water all around,
It is good to remember
That at some point,
You must have made the decision to leave the comfort of shore
And set out on this voyage.
Do not drink the seawater that is all around,
As tempting as it may be.
It will make you ill.
Just wait a bit longer, buckets poised,
For that drop of sweet nectar to fall,
And the rains to begin.