Voyage

by Charles Sielert / Libra - Not entered


Voyage

How slow they are awakening,
  These trees, this earth, how late they sleep.
How wide this plain dividing us,
  This land that's torn by rivers' sweep.

Beyond the window of the bus:
  America, its magic will.
Its canvas vast, its scale precise
  Disquiets thoughts that rise and spill

Behind to lie with those we pass,
  Those marking life in quiet nests--
A flash of incredulity
  On cowboy, farmer minds at rest.

Before it dawns, another stop
  For country breakfast, ham and eggs;
Where from each other faces turn
  So our indifference may beg

For that fine balance found between
  New friendship and old emnity.
The waitress, inefficient, slow;
  And I, uncaring, ask for tea

That then calls for a second choice:
  "Sir, lemon? milk?"  I leave it plain,
Remembering the words, a voice:
  "You're indecisive"--truth with pain.

My gaze, turned outward, falls upon
  A boy who smiles, who seems impressed
By something we, the exiles, fail
  To know, or hide from being guessed:

That nothing can be left behind--
  Contempt?  Despair?  Where can we go
It will not ride each heart and mind?
  But, that, he surely cannot know.

With miles to go before true dawn
  We, who have ceased believing in
Arrival, rise to board the bus,
  Resume our "voyage" to an end.

I used to think that "voyage" was
  Derived from French, "voir--to see,"
But blindly stumble to my seat
And to "Villette" I learn to be

A place and not an heroine--
  The saddest book I've ever read
About lost love by one who knew
  Of death to whom she'd soon be wed.

And as I light a cigarette
  I find that I've been left alone--
My faceless fellow travellers
  Have found sleep's peace my thoughts postpone.

...With night and novel finished now
  I turn to face the daylit earth
Aware that nighttime's threnody
  Is now a wondrous song of birth.

How quick they pass the scepter, rule,
  These lords of brooding, hope supreme;
How narrow is the bridge between
  Dark thoughts of night and daytime dreams.

(C) 12-27-95  Charles Sielert

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1996-04-22 18:57:33
Last updated: 2021-04-14 17:18:06
Poem ID: 44865

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