An Ode to Harriet

And off into the darkness we go.
In the stillness of the night,
The light of the moon before us.
We cut through the waters as
Smooth as perfect timing.

Leaving all the stories and all the loves behind,
Trusting that their time will come, too.
From the noisy cities that drown out Silence
And the dusty roads that steals Vision one grain at a time;
The ones irritated by their scratchy wool garments
And the thousandth trail made by lice in their hair.

A third, a fourth, a seventeenth time of reckoning
Will beckon,
An open pursuit for those who dare to dream,
Who dare to take it.
Their time will come, too.

For now, we go alone.
Hailing to the other silent canoes
That slice their way through the holy waters
Strangers and comrades alike,
Heading towards their freedom.
Heading towards their home.


11.13.24