The Measure

The madder night has fallen
My cloak is damp with the salty air
I have walked bare foot
To reclaim my land

I let the waves sluice the gathered dust
From my feet
Where on the tongue of a salty breeze
I hear the trumpets' mournful lament

And I see the far gone hours
The mermaids gather and the sirens sing
The steel line, black against the purple sky
Where someone once stole me a firefly

I touch the hollow space
And measure the fallen angle
The shifting sand where upon
My soul and heart and spirit were seeded

Thereafter to return to the basin
To be lain in that place again
Sweetly comforted by hands that taught
And where words with mater were spoken

There in the cupped steel I lay
Listening to the molten voices
Of my forefathers and mothers
As they tell stories of bygone days

Lullaby murmerings reach me from the shoreline
When I lay my body and my ancient legend bare
Carried over the ice glassed water
Where the memories wait to be remembered

I have visited my holy grail
And have not found it wanting
I discovered that the wind
Had whistled me back

The sands of time nor the tides
Nor any fair or stormy weather
Has managed to erode the place
Where the gods come to conspire

In the palm of my hand I craddle
The oval shaped vessel
Polished steel where the glint of the sun
Struck light to my eye

I hug the cup to my breast
And lay my cloak around the fragile root
With careful hands I will feed
And nourish the seed in my garden

I do not judge nor am I
In want of judgement
Only He has leave to recall
And forgive me for my mistakes

Happiness is a fragile state of mind
Sorrow has no place in my heart
As there is no room left for hurt
The tight spaces overloaded

And still there is the soil to be dug
And potatoes to be planted
And the gathering of the beasts
When the sun hides behind the yarn eye

There are stomachs to be counted
Bowls to be handed out
Heads to be blessed
Children that need feeding

I cleave to the idea of long gone memories
And wait in the hollow of the ever moving sand