The steel behemoth lurches, pulling fast-away just after my arriving;
Not a moment to lose as I begin the clear afternoon crossing.
∞
A gently undulating sea receives my haste and purpose with cool indifference;
Only the evanescent foam at the stern in the wake of my transit takes any notice.
∞
So goes the journey of souls ferried here and there in dissolving moments;
Consumed by flights of well-meaning, scheduled intending.
∞
As native gulls soar and search, and the diesel-beast heaves forward;
Under smooth and comforting skies, a fresh-clean and azure-blue.
∞
No white scars of cloud or flight of any man-made thing;
And my eyes go out to where sky and water meet, and I hear my heart beating.
∞
No goals no roles no missions to delude me;
I am the lighted sea, and the winter sky.
∞
I am the boiling foamy-turbulence in the Archimedean trail;
The hungry gull, the bustling crewman,
and the poet watcher,
a curious looking-man,
gazing down upon the crossing.
∞
© Brother Anton and The Harried Mystic, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.
The Harried Mystic 
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