rest

I shall cast my ashes over the waters
to find my way into the silence I have sought.
the peace of the cool depths, seductive
as the kiss of an illusion.  I am caught
in the satellite whims of remembrance,
where I do not command my fate unless
I am willing to take violent hand against me
and grant the rest.  the test.  to wrest
from those for whom I am a crutch,
resented at times, even when most needed.
alone in the world, a gnarled driftwood shaft,
left to wormfood in the shallows.
I so want the cool silence of the depths.
even as I rise on stout legs of will
and the valor I cannot lay down, ever.


William F. DeVault.  all rights reserved.