Departure

Io venni in luogo d’ogni luce muto.
The day of my release is finally approaching.
The door having been left unlocked is only waiting
upon the moment at which I am to rise and pass through it.

I have known you unlike they will ever know you.
I have loved you unlike they can ever love.

Youth is not lived in memory
- except by the old.
I have no memory of you!

The wind has blown clear the landscape of time.
Sky blue with wisps of cloud
The air filled with sunlight
Autumn brisk in treetops gently bent.

What has happened is never of our making.
To be ready and finally not impatient.
O is this what was meant?
And more than a touch of grey.
How delightful. This is not old.

In the heart of my heart I salute our noble Captain,
may God bless him and grant him peace.
It was he who first took me aboard ship –
years ago when no more than a stripling
From amongst the city swine and painted roses.
He took me on to learn the ways of the Discernment,
And take up a trade, ship carpenter’s apprentice.

And, of course, our rogue pilot,
who put in a good word.
Skin burnt and bones bare: nerves of steel
He kept the course.
By God, even when lost he was finding the way.
In the eye of a storm he was getting us the hell out of it.

All these years later, I’ve gained a confidence in hand.
As for the pilot, this day still at sea, it is he
who is il miglior fabbro.

The time of departure is not far off now.
Getting ready, being ready.
I intend, God willing, to find him and hook up.
He’s still in with our Captain and
maybe I make ship again with a good word.
Or perhaps they just need a good chisel
and mallet man with a few seaworthy years left in his legs.

I feel that urge to drift from sound moorings
and dream that perfect meeting.
But no and no again.
“Hold fast the rope men, all together”
We live our way to journey’s end.

Robert Luongo (1989)