With one peak as a bright crest
you strut along the great blue.
Three thirds of your meaning is well-hidden
for better times and bolder looks.
No one can measure you, thawing,
then freezing, daily – no one to hug you
and feel your heart beating or beaten:
you wander alone in mist and bitter cold.
We stroke the words that have been with us,
but you are out of reach – you melt at a touch
and turn into a cold current that floods dreams
and freezes the body of mud to endless vigil.
You have neither youth nor age –
but as a white whale, dreaming of both,
glide through darkness, wander through time,
make us learn your unmapped path by heart.
You benumb our minds: whether a vision
or a waking dream... We follow you, you – us.