The Passage

A Poem by Perdition

Awake at the three am hour as the train whistle screams reminding me of the tireless hands still embracing the American light. The city asleep, deeply around me. This city that birthed the idea in grandeur of cutting a vast canal across a foreign land. A path to which ocean to ocean denied smooth portage. And in all these late night ghosts and noises swirling, the recollection of grandeur seems appropriate to this setting somehow.

I sip and work hard at my warmed leaves, remembering Sedona and the stars that threw me there more than a decade ago. The stars here are different and they are dimmed by the city, but they still gleam and nod as in some fatherly fashion and I begin to consider this world as a ship, our journey, not of this realm but through it, towards a different home, across a blackness of unfamiliarity. A sea that holds our fascination. It feels remarkable.

This thought becomes the sobering, and the signs I’ve begun to see recently have become as whales beneath my skin that wake and breach the shallow surface. They've come to make aware the distance between these waters and the waters of our stellar migration. My exit seems a small concern against a billion others.

Awake. but aware now that within hours the sun will become captain again, but in this briefness, this given before the changing of guards, I think on the words of Maupassant,: "It is the lives we encounter that make life worth living". How undeniably textured his words feel to me at this second, as they too scream out with the churning whistle and wheels in the mysteriousness of my passage.

© 2017 Perdition

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Reviews

Oh the second stanza....it's just gorgeously penned!!
The consideration of life as a sea and and all the waves, shores, drifts in it we find....All the thoughts must be of midnights....surroundings asleep and freedom of our mind to roam wherever it wants to...
Absolute passage penned...great read☺!