As I passed through hell on deck aft raised

As I passed through hell on deck aft raised,

I saw all left behind on the way astern.

Not knowing where they were going,

They kept on going.

I distance myself from their maleficent vibes:

The entrepreneur who has not repaid his debt,

The toastmaster who never stood on a soapbox,

The privileged youth paying lip service to greed,

The charlatan meditating his struggles away,

The fellow poetess that knows not another’s poem

The arthritic drummer who cannot climb into his castle…

I wave them bye as I resume my journey,

And rest near the river on my way upstream,

Feeling the love of those who waited my return

Lending buoyancy to the road rising under my wheels.

Wetting my eyes with tears of joy,

And power to my lungs as I sing:

My energy is at your taking,

You who have helped me through my unmaking.

When all seemed defeated, deflated and dried,

You pumped me up and brought rain to the sky.

The Lord’s beneficiary at your beck and call*,

Thanks you for allowing him back from his fall.

In Job’s hour of doubt and despair I never parted,

Up the river now ride I

To where my life restarted.

Sept. 7, 2017 

*dedicated to J. Bekken