Herein be monsters of the soul,
uncharted depths and unmapped lands,
unknown, unguessed the magnet pole
that forms my innermost demands.
And I–no brave new Drake to chart
the globe of self–I have no art
to launch my ship, unfurl my sail.
I stay ashore, afraid to fail.
And yet, on nights when storm clouds rage,
I long to slip my barque and go
where wind and wave full fiercely wage,
and see this self I do not know.
Blow upon me, Spiritwind,
like a feather let me dance
on the breezes of your love.
(Stepping to the harmonies
of the symphony of spheres,
singing with the morning stars)
May the zephyrs of your breath
cast me up in wildest jest,
like a feather on the wind.
The grass is deep, the trees are old,
the land lies peaceful and serene,
far different from what once was seen
when blood was cheap, and life was sold
for causes now forgotten.
A thousand men swept past this hill,
a hundred cannons belched their shot.
The fortress fell, though dearly bought,
as death alone could pay the bill
for causes long forgotten.
The trees and grasses clothe the ground
made rich by losses of the war,
while men still seek that bloody whore
made fat by still another round
of causes soon forgotten.
I am posting these three early poems of mine in response to a request to see some of my earlier work. Souldream was written in 1981 for the Marin Festival of the Arts, and took first place in the poetry category. Ruach is a Hebrew word (first used in Genesis 1:2) that has two meanings–spirit and wind. I visited Fortress Louisbourg in 1982. The Fortress was the site of a major battle of the French and Indian War.