Wednesday, May 10, 2006


On this voyage from nowhere
to nowhere, I’ll fix the stars,
draw my charted sky
with you the constant north.

No wind blows more darkly
than yesterday’s, when phantom
sails slipped the horizon.
In folly, have I pursued

such prizes, sought the siren
on her shore, dallied
over long in nameless
ports beyond the night.

Set the course, my star,
and I shall know your light;
it will shine a path
across the seas of my life.

Stephen Brooke ©2006

I've held the opening metaphor for weeks, waiting for the rest of poem to appear.

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