For many seasons I awaited your return,
restless on the shore of a great sea,
hair blown wild by brackish winds,
my tapestry unwoven.
For many moons I searched the distant line
where Neptune's hand slices through the sky
beyond the eye's perception.
How frenzied my hands became,
sifting for mythical remains
of boat, of flesh, of washed bones.
From carved crib to wrecked vessel,
your realm was all but stolen,
Then lifted from night's shadow,
on a zephyr's breath, you came
to heal the fever of my sorrow,
my heart grown heavy with longing.
I recall that fateful day, how I wept
while you unfolded wondrous tales
as we lay in half-shade beneath our tree of life.
Between its leaves shines love -
the eternal light,
burning in the heart of Ithaca.
copyright © Caroline Grace 2014
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
For many seasons I awaited your return,
restless on the shore of a great sea,
hair blown wild by brackish winds,
my tapestry unwoven.
For many moons I searched the distant line
where Neptune's hand slices through the sky
beyond the eye's perception.
How frenzied my hands became,
sifting for mythical remains
of boat, of flesh, of washed bones.
From carved crib to wrecked vessel,
your realm was all but stolen,
Then lifted from night's shadow,
on a zephyr's breath, you came
to heal the fever of my sorrow,
my heart grown heavy with longing.
I recall that fateful day, how I wept
while you unfolded wondrous tales
as we lay in half-shade beneath our tree of life.
Between its leaves shines love -
the eternal light,
burning in the heart of Ithaca.
copyright © Caroline Grace 2014