Archive
06/11/10 - (2)
Goes Right
When you consign your lonely soul To the wine-dark seas of fate-freighted destiny, You end up arriving at places imagination hoped never to go, Spaces where apocalypse hides under every rock. This leaf-quivering Friday evening Is one of those rare, fabulously miraculous exceptions, When everything that could go wrong goes right.
That it begins with a rife breeze careening across this café's patio, Where I sit composing heroic narrative poetry, Certainly increases the chances That winds billowing the sails of my odyssey's vessel, As I head urgently, impatiently home, to Troy, Will affect me equally, emphatically, Serve as my astrolabe and compass, my moon and stars.
Indeed, this balmy night of my June solitude, A cool, soothing whisper of divinity Brushes across my eyes, my stubbly chin, cheeks, Beckons my fatigued spirit to follow it to wherever it might be bound. Without giving it a third thought, let alone a first, I mount its airborne combers, prepare for my daring cross-country, And surrender to the waves flowing, perpendicularly, inward,
Guiding my soul home, to the kingdom of Ever-Ever Forever After, That land which suckled my puckered lips, at its tender breasts, So long before I left to defend my royal birthright. Tonight, I remember everything I've ever forgotten About the end of death, the beginning of life, ad infinitum, And realize that Homer and I are blood-brother poets, Speaking to each other, across mind-bright seas.
06/11/10 - (2)
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