The Passage

There's a silence
A stillness like autumn's end
a whisper of rain on the far gold sunset.
The waves swift softly
against the gilded wood and
the prow slices through the murk like
God's own light, unfurl the sails like wings.
Starlight's just beginning to throb on the horizon
The sea's at ease todat
and the rushing roll and the quay is stilled
The sleepy twittering of shorebirds is heard
by those who listen for it, and wait
till the red dawn rises once more.