An Epistle...

He left them in the mail,
Those maps meant for the pilgrims;
She shunned the old trail,
The grails and grains of ancient whims;

Reading, learning about
Forces that had flipped and destroyed,
He decked her out,
The tech trinkets all suitably deployed.

For the hand, he did kneel -
That beyond, behind compass and clock,
- In which, safe they may feel,
A smock against slosh and shock.

The hand was to signal,
When the flag would be unfurled,
The best of moments cull,
To begin a neo-circle of the world.

They were ready,
Crouching, listening for the whistle;
She was still, also he,
Till floating to them came an epistle.

'When you set sail,

 You don't believe the waters will behave;

 But how can you fail,

 When you know how to ride every wave?

 Go on, get to the helm,

 It awaits you, an all new realm!'