storms in the distance

You need the ocean to see storms in the distance.  Sitting in the city, unless you are on the edge of a hill, and perhaps not even then, can you see the distances that allow you a radar-like view of all the different clouds that tell of an approaching storm.
The ocean portrays the sky and the land only does that at historic disasters.
The mixture of so many different forms of chaos are in my memories and the storms over the ocean.  They come at me remorselessly, they are my life, your life, the life of everyone.
For the moment, I feel the false sense of being safe and dry.  It seems like all the barriers are of my own making.  I am between the coming storms and those that threatened to sink my small boat.  I am between those that you with your skillful sailing caused me to survive and those which I will face without you in the future which I perceive in the distance.
For the moment, I am in that middle ground where I can decide which way to go.  I am bound by my prejudices, by those children's rat lines which I've done so much to care for, rebinding them with the sinews of our hearts, by my uncertainty of the past and the storms of the future.
The fortress I built with your hands is so strong, the mortar is bound by the blood we shared.  And yet  fortresses can only keep out what is healthy and fresh, they are designed to allow whatever is inside to fester.  They lock us into the past.  Growth is slow, it can only happen by an extension of new walls, more importantly by breaching down the old walls.  If we are to grow, if I am to find you again, I must walk out from the fortress which seems so safe.  The fortress contains only the damp memories of the storms of the past.  Living lies in the storms of the future, and ships eventually sink and become fortresses on the shifting sands till the storms of the future breach the walls we hid behind.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4KlJ6PK_dY