Oh, You Are the Roots That Sleep Beneath My Feet And Hold the Earth In Place

There was this book I read and loved, the story of a ship.
who sailed around the world and found, that nothing else exists;
beyond his own two sails, and wooden shell, and what is held within.
All else is sure to pass, we clutch and grasp, and debate what's truly permanent.
But when the wind starts to shift,
there's no argument.

I guess the past is good for a laugh.