Only the hull holds back the sea,
Only an eggshell between us
And the rolling fathoms freezing and sunless,
The depths dotted with lantern fish
And the monstrous squid with their secrets.
The tempest heaves us onto wave crests,
Where poised we fill with dread,
Then fall, our innards in our throat,
Only to pitch with faces touching the sea,
Yawing and heeling and slamming,
Seasick and retching,
Turning ourselves inside out,
Vomiting bile, vomiting nothing.
But the storm moves on,
Taking its misery to ships and houses,
And we sail as if gliding on ice,
The sun at the right distance
And the winds cuddling in the curving sheets.
At the estuary we wear upstream,
Far inland past towns and forests.
Just as we haul the jib and mainsail
And drift toward the shore,
Your father raises his eyebrows and lowers his baton,
And the choir sings so that
Even the hovering angels smile
And their raiment of precious stones is outshone.
I leave you in your father’s arms,
Your aunt and uncle waiting their turn,
Leave you where it all began,
In the town on the great river,
While on its tributary our old friend blesses the waters
And those waters flow days later
Past you and your father,
Carrying more than memory,
Carrying the dissolution and mixing
Of three lives,
But more than this,
The taste of shale,
The scent of seabirds’ nests on a cliff,
The sound of icebergs calving,
The color,
The color…
I set sail for I have an ocean
And one blue sea to cross,
And my fate is to join another river,
A torrent from a glacier,
But it is no matter, for we will meet,
All of us,
And mingle,
One drop at a time.
September 1st, 2007
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