Sunday, April 5, 2015

Without a Compass

Without a Compass

Poem by my father

A sad story about a happy man, a man who
Loved poems, women, and a calm core
A sad story that crashed against the cliff, crashed onto 
A cold, indifferent shore

Hey, captain of our fates, let your hand be firm
Amidst the torque of time, amidst the murk
Navigate our ship through this night, this storm
Towards the light that beacons from the dark

Save us from the gulf deep here within us
And from a smile that bares sharp teeth
Give us strength to withstand our faults, our weakness
Against ourselves give us a shield, a sheath

Oh God! The sunrise comes upon us
But inside—still night, without a compass

Poem by my father, included in Home


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3 comments:

  1. I quite like the poem. Probably not material for the applause of contemporary critics. Yet, a solid comment through strong images.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you David, so glad you enjoyed the poem.

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