pic by alex grey
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Looking forward to dinner with friends…
who had sailed the seas and
swam with dolphins;
Listening to tales
of inspiring worlds and
pondering the shamans’ cryptic words,
“Man is the Dream of the Dolphins”
But we did not speak of these things…
So I sought her feelings on more
(as she had once before) about
“the mauve carpet of stars
they rode during the long nightwatch”
And how in the ocean’s depth they saw
“memories of another shore
once strolled as people of the morn.”
But we could not talk of these things…
We spoke instead of passing fads,
that, each passing day
are washed away
and found no words to share…
the lonely seas we’ve sailed
and others long desired,
of undocking and of planing
of adventures and of failing
and of that ancient cold conniving
South Wind
each some tide must ride.
Through that night I came to know
and to understand
our central human
compass bearing:
“Lost in thought”
We’re lost in thought;
listening without hearing
living while we’re sleeping
sailing but never leaving
in friendships lost at sea…
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