POETRY

Spheres I

There’s a word for sailors
who lose their minds at sea

Who, enshrouded by the thinnest layers of wood
alone amidst the vastness,
reach for strange gods

I remember when I first sought your name
so recently in our endless history

I told someone
who asked of you
you didn’t have a name

But if there were to be a sound
I’d use to call you near
yours would be a diesel truck
gasping for fuel

fuuu–ja
fuuu–ja

My dear how I listened
all those years to your heart
longing for your engine to catch

To watch one’s nature die within itself
To vigil with such endlessness
There is nothing one can show me in this world
that can undo what I then learned how to do

and yet I taste joy
and yet I feel love
and still forever I miss you

my dear
from within the bowels of the ship
I called to a divine other

and you came