Nights into days into nights. Endless grief.
But come more nights. Let Barrabas the Thief
grovel on the cross and go to heaven.
But come more baits, and I would as often
be free. Beyond bounds. As the marching feet
that dared tanks, and dancing, proclaimed the street.
The hands of time chained to the rock I broke
stood still. The world hung fragile on a spoke.
And I’d had time enough to love the sea,
to scour its depths for the lost clock, the key
to the road followed by the crossing Jews.
And I’d had time enough for all views.
Of the life to come, pressing the wind vane
against the wind. Free from the crusted plane.