NORTH-NORTHWEST

I speak, yet utter not a sound,

I grant my peace to the voice I’ve found.

Within the waves I seek my grace,

that gently wrap me in their embrace.

The sun descends with tender fire,

the western sky draws down its shroud,

the east already dreams entire,

while north and south stand still and proud.

Hours flow from the finished day,

while time here rests, yet will not stay.

It binds its open wounds once more,

and fears the night that waits ashore.

I sail toward the East, still drifting far,

I cannot turn to Northwest’s star.

Each message that my heart imparts

turns my conscience against my heart.

My temples stand on peaks so steep,

of marble white they breathe the air,

while I, below, the horizons keep,

and sink in night’s black, endless snare.

— A.J. / 2015