Within the Storm


Actual Intention

Actual Intention

In darkness, cold, lost, alone. Where stands the promised tower
We are hard upon the shore
Where the light, the horn, the bell, the clarion call we yearn to hear
Razor close, we draw near the shoal
Night shrouded, sewn up by dark clouds and dense fog; some pray
Jagged rocks loom
Bravely we cower and cling, occulted by deep shadows black as death
Eyes peer into stygian depths
Seeking , imagining, desperately inventing  our destination, salvation
Only hope
Phantom shapes loom on the land and from within the darkness
From within us
We are lost. What right do we claim safe passage through the storm
The beacon lit or dark
Every moment screams beware, chastises, mortality tells an eyeless skull
Blessed, damned, or only eternity

Finding a hoped-for light or tower tall may help avoid danger, tragedy
Or it may not
Life, adventure fraught, our only promise in this sweet life’s brief tenure
No safe harbor here or anywhere
Those who pray, reach out to hold an unseen, mythic hand in darkness
Would hide their fear
They come, in sackcloth, ashes, mendicants with open hands, closed minds
Lurking in alleys of paradise imagined
While those who struggle, labor hopeful, lashed to the wheel, reefing sail
Gritted teeth and sweat-damp brow
Excoriate existence, exerting all their strength of arm and heart and mind
Within the storm
Transverse the same fathomless depths, sink or sail, to the same final port
Against the gale, all equal
Yet who brought our ship safely to anchor, who only rode along may matter
This time

Boldly, heads held high, these stalwarts come, replete in their labors fulfilled
Sorely tried, yet satisfied
This world of opposites, dusk and dawn, predator and prey, weak and strong
We all sail in between
Omega and alpha, first and last, we have all lived as both lamb and lion
Even within a single turning
Creation blessed, in ripeness of time, we are the third truth, no other option
Bound sacredly
Caretakers, protectors of the weak, the helpless, against uncaring predation
Grown into over time
Vulnerability, disadvantaged lives seen by some as simply failure, full of blame
The guilt of victims
Mark mentors, and all who live to serve, guide, stewards of the greater good
As fools and charlatans

Killer instinct stands atop this carnival ride, this complex thing we call our life
In suits and ties
Killers who live in naked, unvoiced terror of the mice, the rabbits, and the lambs
Prey with fangs and razor claws
Frightened game, defeated yet armed with hatred, desire, with guns and knives
Casualties of class war
Distantly the light shines, illuminates the route we’ve taken, the wrong course
The captain gone
Stunned silence. Hard a starboard, cries the frantic mate, heave to or all is lost
Salvation or mirage
Narrow our chances, though we struggle to survive, this we must no matter who
Desperately to steer clear
Prufrock’s fabled minute, the time for decisions and revisions a minute will reverse
Can we weather this storm
Will the breaking of day in sunlight, breezes, pierced by gull cries, find us afloat
Or on the bottom
Our mettle tested, our courage to try rewarded. Or have we started much too late
Time will tell, not I

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