O master of sail
gift us with notes of jewel and sorrow
that the day may not pass unheard,
fallen where it lies, empty where we discover it.
O show us please which
of your lyrics has passed through heaven’s gate
and returned?
You who found some bit of space between the tawdry winds of the sun
and an adolescent noon—
(faded sun winds which only you could see),
can even you learn to let go – of the beloved’s land-memory?
(Now good master,
lend us your compass, your helm, rudder and masts full true
for the coast,
let your music fill ears
rapt and full, well rehearsed—
no longer distracted and imprisoned.)
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