THE HELM
Two stars caught between
The bottom of the mainsail
And the horizon have begun
To assert their importance.
By following these particular
Refugees from an ancient
Explosion it becomes possible
To find a way to proceed
Through this night, perhaps
Find land, a harbor, food,
Come to understanding something
Never before considered; a music
Unheard previously, filled with
Great sighing and an exquisite
Longing the soul recognizes
As an ancient companion long
Forgotten. Such things as this,
Holding this course, tacking
Back and forth across trackless
Spaces, binding all these poor
Stars, I may even hear your sweet
Voice again in my ears telling me
To trust in this kind of judgment,
Bidding me continue, making even
The shortest of journeys a marvelous
Thing. walking to the bedroom,
Seeing these two stars outside
The bathroom window, brushing
My teeth, navigating my way to your
Side, anxious to tell you everything.
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