THE SEA

What wild journey have we embarked upon
Tossed by the deep ocean above the bedrock
Of our being, borne by the wild empty sea
Across continents that remain unseen
Down deep in the dark green. Silence
Is under the surface storm, silence
Is under the grey violent waves—waves
That splash and lash the lowering sky,
At night grey, grey in the morning—
Waves that swell, curl into a whip
And slash and hurl and shake to break
Our frail vessel.

                              I try to remember,
I try to remember people we have known,
Thoughts we’ve shared, places we’ve been—
The church we chose to visit, the candle
Burning at the altar, bunched snowdrops
Growing closely on a grave: I try
To remember what they should mean
But I see only the silent sneering green:
Faces places memories all are discharged
From this dangerous ship, and drift down
Into the great dark and endless deep.

Shall the motion of emotion bear us ashore
Before our timbers part? Or must we daily drown,
Go down through the vast and endless deep
To reach the simple almost barren land
Where confusion and conflict are put off?

Or shall that lost land be lost forever?
Shall we always live, and die, at sea—
This sickening storm subside
And we subsist on a flat calm, drifting
Pleasantly on sunny seas, supported
By calm emotion in each other’s arms,
By the supporting sea that gently sports
Above the still and simple truth?

Shall we know again the intense meaning
Of the burning candle, the quiet church,
White flowers alive in their own stillness?
Or shall we ever drift through our barren days
Sailing to no end over lost and hidden ways?