The Tuesday Poem: Homing
Homing
.
He hears it, in every slap
of wave against wood,
as the ship cleaves water
like a seabird, hears the word
that he has hungered for
through the lost years,
whispered to him now
by the sea as it bears him up,
speeds him on like a lover
to the consummation
of his long-held dream
of home: home, lilts the sea,
soft as a lullaby, and home,
sings the wind, slipping
through rigging, soothing
him to rest, not to wake
even as a clear dawn
pares away night, reveals
rocky shores and a green crag
rising, not even to stir
when they lift him
over the bulwark and down,
splashing through shallows
to leave him on shadowed sand,
tender as a child smiling
in his sleep, and dreaming,
dreaming still
of the long returning.
.
(c) Helen Lowe
Published in JAAM 26 2008
—
This week I’m continuing the classical theme and featuring another poem from my own Ithaca Conversations sequence, which, as noted last week, reflects my long-held love of myth and legend.
To read this week’s poem on the Tuesday Poem Hub, and other great poems featured by fellow Tuesday poets from around the world, click here.