Ghost ships passing by far out at sea

Ghost ships passing by far out at sea

I saw them last night from my window,
ghost ships passing far out at sea,
no lights shining out from their cabins,
not one sailor waving at me.
The moon made a path on the water,
it shimmered as far as could be,
and one after one they came sailing,
like they had somewhere they must be.

The first was an old wooden vessel,
her sails had been battered and torn,
she carried the souls of the sailors,
who never came home with the dawn.
I heard someone singing so softly,
a song that was sad and so old,
then the wind came and took it away,
and suddenly I felt so cold.

Another came out of the darkness,
with ropes hanging down from her side,
an old captain stood at the wheel there,
with the sea still alive in his eyes.
Was he looking for someone who loved him,
someone who waited in vain,
someone who stood at the harbour,
but never would see him again.

Then came a ship in the distance,
so quiet it frightened the stars,
little pale faces at windows,
looking at me from afar.
Their hands were pressed onto the glass there,
as though they were trying to say,
we never forgot those who loved us,
we just couldn’t find our way.

Where are you going I whispered,
you ships with no harbour or home,
how long have you sailed through the darkness,
how long have your lost sailors roamed.
Do you pass by the homes you remember,
do you look for a light you once knew,
do you call out the names of your loved ones,
hoping they still think of you.

One ship came nearer than others,
I heard its old bell in the night,
one lonely ring through the darkness,
then something moved into the light.
A sailor stood high on the foredeck,
and slowly he waved back at me,
then faded away like a memory,
and disappeared into the sea.

No waves seemed to follow behind them,
no footprints were left in the foam,
just shadows that sailed through the moonlight,
still searching and searching for home.
The night seemed to know all their secrets,
but wouldn’t give one up to me,
some secrets belong with the sailors,
and some belong only to sea.

Maybe they’re carrying letters,
that never got pushed through a door,
maybe they’re carrying kisses,
from someone who came home no more.
Maybe each ship holds a promise,
that somebody promised to keep,
while someone grew old by a window,
still seeing their face in their sleep.

By morning the ocean was empty,
the sun put its light on the blue,
fishermen sailed from the harbour,
like fishermen always will do.
I asked had they seen all the vessels,
they said only two maybe three,
but I know I counted eleven,
ghost ships passing far out at sea.

Tonight I will sit by my window,
and wait till the moon starts to rise,
perhaps they will sail past me again,
with the sea still there in their eyes.
I won’t be afraid when I see them,
I know now why they come back to sea,
they’re searching for all that they once loved,
and all that they wanted to be.

And maybe one night I will watch there,
and not one old ghost ship will come,
no bell will be heard in the darkness,
no sailor still searching for home.
Then I’ll know they have found their last harbour,
where the lost are no longer alone,
and somewhere beyond all that darkness,
every sailor has finally gone home.