the day, back again

I wish I could travel by sailing ship

and roll in waves of moon-spent chaos to land

on sweet, rumored shores.

There is someone there I wish to meet,

arched across generations, though her direction

fades in dreams of the eld. She’s new and sparkling,

this someone, a woman in apparition fog,

crossing oceans of clarity and breaks. Her lands

rise up in greeting, gentle welcome, their shimmers

melting solidly. I only see her with faint familiarity,

something about the chin and perhaps the cheeks. I wonder

if we’re about thrice removed…this—not a reflection—

yet nearer in the silver hairs. At the end’s decline, into

eternity, I see her fully. A face I love, as I sense it loves me,

and has since the beginning.

But isn’t that just the way it goes?

Then, the tongue of her homeland will meet me, and my ears

will hear it plain. A gulf healed, made clear in honest fashion,

the depths of missed connection twixt. The corridors

she once traversed upon that sailing ship will be tamed

to humming harmony and the smiling of hymns. This, a shore,

uncovered by salted distance. This: my harkening home.