SpiritNet - Poetry

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it could be so easy - too easy -
to tie myself to that steady mast:
to feel the wind whipping at my skirts,
to feel the spray and surging waves,
to feel the arms of the storm besiege
my fortress body, weather the rage;
the push and pull of nature's all,
but all in vain because the mast -
my steady mast, my rock, my earth,
embracing me with strength and force -
keeps me safe from harm; the wind,
the storm, they mean no wrong,
there is no malice in their form,
there is no hate, no want, no thought,
and so with calm and steady hands,
unperturbed by the rushing air,
i free myself from the steady mast
and feel the gentle cold embrace
of the storm as it washes me,
washing away my soul and mast.

Aforth! (and a timely shower)

A Star, he danced cross hills and streams,
Bringing now his Light; now his Dark -
But then! Afore his eyes saw the Star a frame:
On that frame, a man - Star hark:

"Aforth!" crieth the Star "Tis positing;
Aye, my darling, posed unseemly my mood!
Let us - shall we? - aye, for tis the time
Myself, but, the Star, I am... ve'rude!

"What! What is this? Do I see; yes, yes!
A shower; a timely shower indeed, oh!
For these drops; they fall; oh my Saviour
Brung aforth! Aforth! I cry: my credo!"

The Star he did fall; and fall did he far
No more could he see - no, nevermore -
For what didst he see? Nought but a tear!
And they dragged him down to the floor...

A tear, shed, for the corruption of sin
Upon that frame! An ending, a start;
But for the Star, bringing the Light:
"Oh, my darling! Pared from thine heart!"