Sails
Huge and rippling in the twilight
Gathering in the imperceptible breath
Drawing on the solitary mariner
On the calm and silent sea.
This is the sea Galēnē that knows no storms
No shore, no tides, no end, where each sailor
Journeys alone and mapless.
Stars there are, and fogs, and rarely
The sweet track of moonbeams leading onward
For a while.
You may set out
Hoisting the great sails of your hopes
Eager for the hidden harbour of your journey’s end.
But the way is long, and the journey
Requires great store of patience
And skill in returning to the sea
That eludes the sailor
Where one day’s journey is undone the next
And the breathing of the waters in the silent world
Is the same, offering no landmarks,
No sense of progress. Here are no seabirds,
No whales to offer company,
Only the quiet twilight and the moving air
That just stirs the sails.
A seasoned mariner might say
They sail at different depths
Of this puzzling ocean:
Skimming silver waves at one time,
At another forging through dim depths
As though they sailed the deep blue currents
Fathoms down.
Yet always the great sails catch the air
Impelling the onward journey of the little skiff
Where the sailor scans the empty water without compass
Longing for the hidden place, the journey’s end.
Sometimes a light is caught
Reflected in the curving fabric high above,
Revealing lovely shapes of light and shadow
A beauty born of star or moonlight on the shining sea.
Then the mariner longs for the lights of harbour
Heart lifting to a hope of morning
The sun rising over heaven-haven, the heart’s long home.
tRuth 2015
This poem describes the experience of contemplative prayer.
image: Pixnio
poem prayer silence 