So although I am not the slave of any man.
I have made myself the slave of everyone.
This race we have ran.
We owe to father and son.

The autumn sun was glinting on the water.
The wind gentle on my cheek.
With the sails and lines pulling all worries put to slaughter.
I was just in the now with no need to seek.

I did not need to consider my fate.
I had just this job to do to go about.
I might be early or I might be late.
But past and future are in this moment put to rout.

So I will seek to be no one’s slave or master.
No one asks me, save perhaps this gentle breeze if I pass muster.