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THE AGES PASS...

           "Cold turkey has 
            got me on the run"
            John Lennon

The ages pass as coolly as whales
Amid their habitat hollow.
Their even course is dull; so is mine,
But mine is wearing away.
A rolling billow treads on my heels,
Upheaving, nodding her collar – 
The water ghost, a spirit unkind,
Has bid her whirl me astray.

I know not fear, but such is the one
Black billow's cold-blooded malice – 
She pains and presses, painting across
My brow, one shadowy thought:
Will soon my head successfully shun
Her vast gargantuan pharynx?
And if it does –  at whatever cost?
And if it doesn't –  why not?

My bride will tire of waiting me in,
But mourning will not invest her.
A wealthy neighbor soon will extend
His care; she won't be too proud.
And, well by March, affianced by kin
They'll tie the knot after Easter – 
And all the blacker over me then
The billow fold as a shroud...

Unkindly spirit! Out of the dark!
Stand up to me for a moment!
I wish, before the moon leaves the sky,
To know the look of your face.
Will I just glance –  and die like a spark?
Or keep my lids never opened?
Will I, o Satan, favor your eye?
Or stay in Savior's embrace?