Up on board. Lubomír Tomik Up on board. Hope let dive flight into the abyss, into the pillow of your arms, feathers, the ship sailed out of port, life dance on the surface of boiling milk foam, enthusiasm for not being nailed to the deck with nine-inch nails, as if it weren't, at night the creaking masts, the naughty sails and unbridled steering wheel rotation, Hope… stretching under the hernia, where instead of snoring villas and alien monsters you hug I saw a fortune teller, Cassandra, Pythia and Sybil, in their free time, the soap bubbles of dreams, wishes and desires pierced the needles in their white fingers, -Sybila -plop, Pythie-plop, Kasandra-plop, - childish antics, slices of passion. We haven't lost a course, only the country disappeared in the distance, in the rampage of the virus, the writhing of politicians somewhere in the fog, disappeared in the reflection on your face, in tears. Hope … but there is no clinking of glasses in the governor's palace, it's the toil of dock workers with muscle braids like ship's ropes, it is a lotus flower growing from a muddy bottom that opens above the surface of light to the colors of You, it's bouncing on shark heads spinning in an endless circle below the board, on which we walk, sweet scurvy. Hope is brighter than thousands of suns, leads me to you. The crew escaped on lifeboats, we are waiting in the stern cabin, huddled together. The wind does not end, up on board set faces in the sun up on board let the ship's bell ring, set faces Hope up on board. Lets go- bolder tougher, more abundantly, flawlessly, just LET'S GO !!! Written and completed 6.2.21 in the stern cabin, on the ship Naděje, under the lighthouse, in the Old Town.