Laden

a poem for my mother

Lacking rudder or direction, 
A ship will drift until it runs out of fuel
	Or wind
	Or runs aground.

Meanwhile, I can
Spend all day like this. 
Go to bed like this. As every star 
	Rises and falls  
	Again into the sky.

If minutes were days
	And each day a year…
I’d be near deathless as gods.
	So laden with drifting
	I would drown myself
	To hear an answered prayer.

If seasons were centuries
	And each year an Age…
	Lifetimes would fall like snow
	The snow would never end
And then would never end once more.

It is said that time 
	Dilates with speed.
Then how quickly do tears come now?
As quickly as I know
The people around me
	Are not you 
Once again

Propelling me
	From one dimension to the next
Ocean, where words 
Dream to run aground

Upon a reef as white as hair, 
	As what glints 
	As moonlight upon clouds 
Still shaped
		By the wind, my bones

Grow brittle as I hunch
	Involuntarily, forget my name wonder
When I should expect to die…

Yet, in the morning, 
	I am sailing in the same 
	Old new world, awake
Another morning…
	Morning, morning…Again 
	Drifting 
Morning 
Without you,
	Once again.

Thank you for reading Ryka's Most Excellent World :)! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.