A rudder put in so long ago can affect my travels today.
The rudder was put in with a promising dream and direction,
But at some point it was screwed in with firm lock-tight bolts.
Perhaps this strong hold was necessary against the winds that once stormed against us, necessary to avoid rocky outcroppings.
But now the immovability of that rudder is troubling; the clarity of the trajectory disconcerting.
As I start to jostle and pry at the bolts, I worry about the destruction it may foretell.
I have moved the bolts enough that the rudder is shaking – I can feel the turbulence.
I am unsure if I should break it free, and I know possibly in the movement I have created may tear us apart any way.
I fear that I will be so uncomfortable with the letting go of control that I will rebolt the rudder just on the other side of the hull.