Oar in my small hands, I toil,
My burning desire to crawl, knees smeared with earthly soil;
The ship I am on, she weathers it, the vessel Noahtic;
Like the sea of birth’s herald, akin to the enlightenment of Nicodemus the Judaic.
She endures the world within her, my essence;
O Mother with your fountain of love, you breathe heavily to welcome my approaching presence;
In your palms, the waters swirl;
I am but a little fish; you, the older Pisces with a corona of pearl.
The boat gifted from the azure heavens blessed;
I wade past the bridge red upon the rill’s breast;
Opening my misty eyes, descending from the divine brook;
After sailing through twenty-seven decades of nights of no moon, I can finally look.
I heard you whisper;
My name is Louis with skin of pale jasper;
Embracing my role as a warrior gallant;
Me, a sunflower’s core, running after you, oh so radiant.
No lantern, no guide as I drift;
Afraid of phantoms and fangs of ensnaring creatures swift;
Turbulent, the roaring murky ocean, the craft rocks;
She is Aquarius the star, a flare upon the stream, a beam near the docks.
Mother All-Encompassing, she’s the Ark of Genesis;
Suffering my tiny universe; tolerance, her acceptance, yet nemesis;
An example I follow;
For she endeavours much, pain without question she does swallow.
This journey without direction, fearsome;
My heart throbs, anxious, loud as a drum;
Louis is coming, the ribbon of scarlet he clasps;
A flicker at the end of his voyage, he expunges dread, the connection of crimson he desperately grasps.