The Interview
(A poem by Pat Guerard)
Two humans,
Two tender soft beings,
All emotions, thoughts and dreams
Spilled like a salt marsh
At our feet,
Sit facing one another,
Without bars but imprisoned just the same.
Speaking of worlds apart, of contrary winds;
Of swabbing the decks,
Of stepping the mast again.
If I am here to see you,
You are dangerous,
You are locked in. You are here
Because someone was afraid of you
You are in dry dock,
Until all repairs are made.
You probably cannot see your own bruised vessel
Strange shipwrights busy themselves with your timbers
You are anchored to the present
Yet ache again for the open waters
To float and bob upon the tides,
To push once more through the open waters
Of life.
You weave yarns like a sailor
Of great storms and peaceful lulls
That gave you a false security.
You understand now
That the route Ulysses took
Cannot be re-charted,
Without consequence.
You are the wiser, you now are experienced
To the point of exquisite pain,
Your brain will erase all this in time.
You will find that others in this harbor
Have a common language
In which they swear and sweat.
I can promise you life goes on,
You will not be here for long.
Flood your new form with hope
And sail off, never to return again
Steering others away from this haven
By stetting warning buoys
Anchored in the depths of your heart.