father

fomented seas below him thrash the heathen rocks
          into a million-year submission and he is suddenly

ambushed at the edge of the world. tempted to peer down
          just once he then restores his focus and altogether his soul is

thrust outward toward that line between black and turquoise,
          the one that splits the Mother from her infatuate, the Moon.

hymns of the sea birds overspread the ear, as a whiffet of air - matron
          of dreams - makes them dance on a line, while

escorting the man's own desires, loves, fears out to a far-gone place he
          can barely see, then towing them back;

retreating and advancing on the ticks of some sort of cruel
          metronome, time and love both a wistful tide