And the Time Is: Poems, 1958-2013

To All My Mariners in One

82 To All My Mariners in One Forget the many who talk much, say little, mean less and matter least. Forget we live in times when broadcasts of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth precede announcements of the death of tyrants. Forget that life for governments is priced war-cheap but kidnap-high. Our seamanship is not with such. From port to port we learn that “depths last longer than heights,” that years are meant to disappear like wakes, that nothing but the sun stands still. We share the sweeter alphabets of laughter and the slower languages of pain. Common as coal, we find in one another’s eyes the quiet diamonds that are worth the world. Drawn by the song of our keel, what are we but horizons coming true? Let others wear their memories like jewelry. We’re of the few who work apart so well together when we must. 83 We speak cathedrals when we speak and trust no promise but the pure supremacy of tears. What more can we expect? The sea’s blue mischief may be waiting for its time and place, but still we have the stars to guide us. We have the wind for company. We have ourselves. We have a sailor’s faith that says not even dying can divide us. ...