Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Apothesion of the Ocean XII

A selection most appropriate to today's events.

The Tryst


Darkness surrounds me so profound

it has swallowed sky and all its stars

with menacing shadow that begins to

chew and churn the crashing spray.

All the world is in ferocious fury,

a devil’s frenzy unleashed to toss sail

and cloud against the bared depth of ocean.

If this is not the valley of death, the

frightful water mountains we ride with

little say as to destiny of brig or life,

that I can scarce imagine deeper pit

of doom to consume us in an instant.


O wind! Wind of such anger! Why do

you howl round us, like some possessed

hound, beast by spear in heart wounded?

Did our jib cut a vital vein, or our main

scratch, disturb you on your way? Or does

some depression of the air[1] bewitch your mind,

make you stumble with push and shove

as you gallop in splitting pain? I have no

balm to offer, save compassion negated

by a crushing ire, transforming into tryst.


So I find my appeal in the Star of the Sea,

the one star constant and unchanging,

uncovered even in the clouds of squall.

Mary! Be now close, advocate of sinners,

surest recourse of mariners! Spread

thine azure cloak bejeweled with night’s

stars, to guide us safe through trying storm.

To you we cry, to child Jesus, to pet this

mass of mighty air, mellow it and

the pounding waves cracking our hull.

And such a morsel of living faith I have,

that with pull of sheet and secure brace

I pray so that I feel as safe as one sure rock

with promise of salvation. Even in

the whip of rain I hear already gentle whisper

of rising don. Just a little more, and God

Himself will unfold happy right of His

waxing Glory in the rosy sky of East.

[1] A low pressure system, also known as a cyclone or depression.

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