Distant Boat

A river drifting beyond time,

On the shore, grass plucks a glass-like chime.

Sometimes the boat hauls my weary body,

or perhaps I push its wandering shape.

The Milky Way spills stars from trees,

Into the waves with silver gleam.

The oar stirs the cosmos’ azure and the water’s deep blue,

Then dips in dye from dreams I knew.

Even windless, it lifts the hem of a skirt.

But the system won’t allow me to drift away,

And hurls a storm before the day.

Inky clouds roll—another crime,

Hoofbeat rain, drums of incantation,

Swirling willow smoke, beneath nightmare sky.

The sail is torn, and the vessel dies.

And I, so light, discard all weight.

Fall gently into the water’s state.

I melt—

to be the river’s eye

and the night’s soft smile beneath the sky.