Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Boy Blue




Boy Blue

Weary of waiting, blue boy Following the map of a vanished sea

Blue lights in the harbor blue sails carry you through
twilights obscuring your lodestar
with the dusk

Dark-adapted eyes in the
period of blindness, between the gods departed and the
gods yet to come

all that is rare and
excellent furnish your happy isle’s
watchtower of white

All the soul’s companions
all that you see the music of grazing horses plays
on the shore

Shaped by the charity of
the firmament blue boy gold scales begin to rise

Over the water at the edge of the dreamline

prevailing winds favor a
crossing go on ahead

The deepest chamber of the
night will restore your
exhausted wings Go on ahead there,

The shimmer of leaves breathes a song
without words

there is pleasing variety
in the moon and stars
awaiting your imprint and corals lie lost from the track
of the world


Janet Hamill

1 comment:

Jannie Funster said...

I've always LOVED that word, lodestar.

Lodestone too.

Motherlode.

Lodes in general.

But not lode by itself.

Why is that?