ODYSSEUS

ODYSSEUS

Yes, I believe you lived,
Odysseus.

For everyone like you has striven
in ever-varied living,
long-voyaging upon the windy sea of life.

Did the travelled, in-viewed poet
know everything and nothing varies,
know everyone who lives traverses
each evanescent wave to venture on
a voyage, vast or small?

Take this day.
Do I not sail
upon an ocean of the hours,
a sea of shifting circumstances?
Do I not view
its marvels and its miracles?
Do I not seek
to skill, with daring to survive
the variation of events,
a treachery of islands?

To cross a simple road is navigation
between steel monsters bearing death..


I take my breath
upon the wind;
I veer between
the fatal outer error's vortex
and the long-armed,
inner creature of the nightmare.

I blind the ancient eye of trance
with glowing-pointed reason's lance.
And Circe calls alluringly;
and strange-voiced sirens sing to me.

And still I voyage, ever-seeking
the home within the heart of all.

The poet knew the image woven,
Penelope's great tapestry of song,
the meanings that the moments give.

Yes, Odysseus,
I believe you live.