I am
lost at sea again -
the
tide that once cradled my head
and
rocked me, gently, into quiet lulls
now
seizes me impetuously,
now
fills me with a sleeping dread –
an
eerie timber I once knew well
forces
the current into a swell
that
storms into the serene abode
in
which my silent longings dwell
How
long? How long, before
I
shut my eyes; the final door,
and
the shadows that loomed overhead
descend,
those thick and heavy lids,
to
snuff the flame, burning soft and dim
as
its gentle light is torn away –
or
would I have then learnt to pray?