Storms, stars and solitude

A poem about choices, unexpectedness and the fragility of human existence and knowledge on a celestial Northern night. Narration video below.

"The helmsman hesitated at the wheel during a rare night on the Fjordian sea. 

There was a storm brewing. 

Where does he take the ship next? 

A closer look at the North Star? The brightest star in its constellation.

Or a better view of the bright full moon? Boasting its grandness as it seemed to inch closer to the North Pole.

But years of careful helming whispered warnings to turn back to the lighthouse’s beckoning beacon. 

He wondered about his passengers on board; what would they prefer?

For glittering gold really may just be a matter of perspective. 

As an experienced helmsman, he knew what was required and he knew better than to deviate. 

But the curious human within chanted quietly, 

But what do I want? What decision would I be happy with in… say 20 years? 

The storm reminded the boat of its impatience, nudging the passengers’ uncertainty. 

Why did we stop here? Where are we going? Storm? 

They had felt his uncertainty and hesitation; a small boat rocking helplessly at sea. 

He was lost. Everyone was lost. Noone knew what they were doing or where they were going to be taken to.

But he was the one in charge."