The sun cracks the sky where the albatross
flies; the clockwork waves splash
Lunacy, the morning haze disbands.
Your patchwork raft, the labour, the scars;
The salt and the spray assault
the ballet: the majestic way you stand.
Your teeming suitcase, a thousand journals,
Their iridescence forms a compass
gleaming north to your merits.
Mountains ahead are distant, hills behind are old
Marvel in awe, gasp as your youth
floats passed, whipping up paths of sand.
Grow and glow, perspire and expand,
shadows are cast for eyes to follow
a menorah of promised plans.
Sand turns to brickwork, pebbles to mortar
squint across the water and scuff a hoof
lunge and press digits on freshly laid girders.
Pull back the bow and aim, no doubt
In grey-matter but a quiver
full of knowledge, a diver in a mirage
A bridge to greener land.