All that could be heard was the splashing,rythmic thud against the small skiff. In the distance the cries of sea gulls, almost musical, a seaman's lullaby. All was serene, surreal.
   John was dressed in his usual waterman's attire,  white boots, white t shirt and his navy colored work pants. His working gloves were missing. His strong veined hands were a subdued copper brown, his face almost expressionless. The weight of his sorrow too deep to contimplate. His sadnessed weighed heavy on him. His eyes on the water, searching intently studying  the expanse before him, as he had done for many years as Captain of his vessels.
   His younger brother, Peter ,never noticed until he neared the boat, slamming against it,face down!  His arms and legs  were afloat, his t shirt curiously bulging slightly.His boots were gone.  Peter was slight of built;  only his soft black curls could distinguish him from his brothers.
   He steps toward the edge and grabs him effortlessly.  Once on the boat, the added weight increses the thud, thud  of the swaying, rocking skiff. And the sea gulls now were giving a farewell, forlorn song of the seas...
John cradles his younger brother for a long while. ( the Piata comes to mind).  He gently strokes Peter's salt laddened hair. He brings him tightly to his chest, as if to take away the pain. He knew what he had to do. Acceptance came at once. He lifts him higher and higher  to the skies. His faced streaked with a man's tears.
  John's body changes, his clothes too There is a glow from all directions.  The gentle morning mist subsides.  John is no longer himself, but a an all powerfull, loving being, his hair to his shoulders, a robe ablaze in white, a radiant face   with loving tears falling from his eyes. This  new man lifts Peter to the heavens.  Peter is now a radiant swaddled babe, with a broad smile upon his face and his eyes sparkling with renewed life. The same eyes with which he had always greeted the world.  And the sweetest child's laughter surpasses all sound. Only  mirth and joy abound.
   The sky is now multi shades of welcoming hues of blue, in the distance the sun's rays, life's  giving light. And now both baby Peter and this holy man are gone...
   John is back on his skiff alone. Only the sounds of the sea gulls and the gentle winds remain. I woke up never to have this dream again; for it was to be  for once in a lifetime.
   I walk the beautiful  beaches of Virginia and I hear the sea gulls  with  their lullaby for my son Peter.