Our wraith in a wavering firetongue wrapped to find
Like that suave Ithacan who sailed to find
The blessed isles, abandoning wife and home.
Though we recoil when we remember home,
The taste is ashes of
all
else we find
When, leaping like deer through snowy fields of time,
We flee submission that can conquer time.
To swim the years we woke when yellowing time
Engulfed our childhood meadows. Now we find
Our mouth as mute as fish to tell how time
Keeps channeling our rush through fresher time,
New hulks and weeds and pearls along our way.
Eden's loss entails
1
hat man know time
As
shoreless gloom and not envision time
Till it has flowed behind and fled his fear.
Summed past could not suffice to still our fear,
Falling always short of actual place and time.
As salmon teem with spawn our ache for home
Must make us leap the future's rapids home.
If
we could sense our course as pigeons home
Or athletes gain the atmosphere of time
Beyond clocks' hebetude, would our old home
Warm our horizon, allow us to feel at home
And leave us whole without desire to find
A hall of flame-flawed mirrors for a home?
All angels call the heart of sunlight home
But those who willed to reign and fell away,
Whose smoky visages occlude our way
When love would bless our will to live at home,
To chance the bonds and trespasses we fear
Before our life becomes the dross of fear.
No matter where we stray, the mists of fear
Enshroud our heart and complicate our way.
Though we know at our hearthfire we can find
No fill of peace while flesh adjusts to time,
The voyage wanes and time has haled us home.
