DECEMBER POETRY

THE TRANSCENDENT TIDE

By

Karen Hancock

 

Experiential estuaries flood my heart.
Muddied by emotion
I sink into the silken silt
and it closes around my feet
in the deceptive warmth of an embrace.
The murky delta
spreads dark and distant,
and inertia settles unchallenged in my breast.
But I wait
for the universal tide
that rushes in with my breath,
leaving clear pools of benevolence,
glowing gifts
of timeless treasures.
The world doesn’t let me
wander and ponder for long,
as I shove them into deep pockets
and corners of hope.
And as I roll their smoothness
in my curving palm,
the common thread
ties it all together for a moment.
It is then I feel the ache of my wings
beneath the fleshy layers,
and I walk once again with purpose.

 

 

 

A LONG VOYAGE IN A SMALL BOAT

By

Karen Hancock

I am on a long voyage in a small boat;
sometimes it has galleon sails,
and sometimes just a sad and single oar.
And sometimes it drifts unmanned
as I lie in its bottom imploring the sky.
At times I have woken
to find another manning the helm,
taking me to unplanned
and fearfully exotic places,
to wash me ashore and leave me unmapped
to sail out against the tide.
The care-worn holes of shipwrecked times
are now windows to depths
I may never have known.
Battle-born barnacles armour my hull,
and gowns of seaweed trail behind me;
a patchwork of terrible and beauteous lace.
Through it all,
there is the same veil of sky above me,
the same cradle of sea below,
the same embracing sun,
the same dark mystery of moon,
the same companionable creatures,
the same rocking wind.
And when my grandchildren ask
“what did you do?”
I will tell them,
I went on a very long voyage in a very small boat,
and I was the captain
and my heart was my compass…..

 

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