Twelve. Evening Ships.

I once risked the ocean and sailed the 7 seas                                                                                                            I once knew Direction  and the painted waves of Peace.

 I once was cut by the doldrums and at once brought to a lull                                                                                   I once knew loneliness, vulnerability, and loss of control.

Day after day after day after day,                                                                                                                        I stuck, I struggled, I sought any prevailing breeze                                                                                                   And as dusk fell dimly the gravity that had long held there moved to draw me to you, to draw you to me.

Our sails were compromised , intertwined, and our course set sure

my anchors,

my lungs,

my veins

filled with that vanilla sandalwood, scented wind of yours.
“We just took our time, the moon had won the war, and I felt that need for you

right then and forever, didn’t ever want you to leave…”

but just like two ships that greet each other with flashing lights and then sail off into the night

it was Brief

it was deep

it went down hard

and capsized.

I once abandoned ship and laid languid tossed about those 7 seas

I once knew [more so] plunging, washing ,violent White caps and the the painted waves of Peace.

I once fell on land nothing more than broken boards upon a shore

cracked and crooked

but once and for All having been found by

my

one

True 

North.

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Eleven. (Mister Herbert)

“Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave
Let me once know.
I sought thee in a secret cave
And ask’d, if Peace were there,
A hollow wind did seem to answer, No:
Go seek elsewhere.

I did, and going did a rainbow note:
Surely, thought I,
This is the lace of Peace’s coat:
I will search out the matter.
But while I looked the clouds immediately
Did break and scatter.

Then went I to a garden and did spy
A gallant flower,
The crown imperial, Sure, said I,
Peace at the root must dwell.
But when I digged, I saw a worm devour
What showed so well.

At length I met a rev’rend good old man,
Whom when for Peace
I did demand, he thus began:
There was a Prince of old
At Salem dwelt, who lived with good increase
of flock and fold

He sweetly lived, yet sweetness did not save
His life from foes.
But after death out of his grave
There sprang twelve stalks of wheat;
Which many wond’ring at, got some of those
To plant and set.

It prospered strangely, and did soon disperse
Through all the earth;
For they that taste it do rehearse
That virtue lies therein;
A secret virtue, bringing peace and mirth
By flight of sin.

Take of this grain, which in my garden grows,
And grows for you;
Make bread out of it: and that repose
And peace, which ev’ry where
With so much earnestness you do pursue,
Is only there.”

Ten. Thorns

Take it from me

I pleaded in the night

I’ve spent my devices to dress these wounds

three  [thousand]

different

times.

My ears can’t hear and my hands can’t grasp

why the torment ensues, why this weakness lasts

Yet deep, deep in the marrow of the soul

therein lies a picture, the most graphic of which the world has ever known.

Dangled by nails

beat to no end

A King, a tree, and the crushing weight of dark dominion.

Resurrection that saves and new eyes to see

long before I was given one,

You wore a crown of these for me.