Castaway

Castaway

 

It’s said, no man is an island

yet from where I stand

all I see is shoreline

crashing waves and foam

lapping at my toes

no matter how high I climb

these breathless peaks of quenched fire

mine’s the only road

passing by below

Sometimes from the summit

I see white wings on the horizon

always too far to tell

if they’re the feathers of an angel

or the canvas of a sail

and though I set fire to a beacon

it never does much more

than warm me for the night

I guess the smoke that I send rising

toward the moon’s soft argent light

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ly:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;”>loses its way among the clouds

fades behind their shroud

When it’s quiet and the fire’s crackle

at last dies to an ember,

the last memory of its flame

I lay back alone and listen

to the gentle humming of the world

to the subtle strain its playing

over the snare-whisk of the waves

the soft, strumming promise of her coming

an angel, a star as yet unnamed

I close my eyes to listen

feel her crescendo in the earth-song

her heartbeat pounding in my veins

and I know that with her arrival

my island will never be the same

I wake at the tide’s insistence

shrug away the dream

wash off the sands of night

in the salt of the lonely sea

roll all my hopes before me

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mily:Arial;color:#000000;background-color:transparent;font-weight:normal;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;”>to my post upon the peaks

and when I spy another feathered sail

somewhere out to sea

I let my dreams tumble down again

to my signal on the beach.

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