From Trees, From Mountains

Jul 1 1997 • Posted in Poetry

From trees, from mountains
with small minutes
with ebbing time,
as the tides watched,

We built our ship
of carved and fitted planks
to march the curves of a dark sea,
the arc of a blue sky.

To stretch its sail in the cool moon,
to sing the ripple of white water
parted by our journey.

We built our ship
for the sea,
but more for our restless heart.

Would there be at the end,
the shadowed smile of a God
to welcome a sail to rest.

From seas, from mountains
washed on shores
dreamed in hearts
long visited by cobalt butterflies,

We built our ship.
Still, feel the sea beneath
this deck that is never quiet.
Strong and gentle, wise and generous,
that is the timber of our ship.

James T. Hubbell
July, 1997

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