When his boat snapped loose <br />from its mooring, under <br />the screaking of the gulls, <br />he tried at first to wave <br />to his dear ones on shore, <br />but in the rolling fog <br />they had already lost their faces. <br />Too tired even to choose <br />between jumping and calling, <br />somehow he felt absolved and free <br />of his burdens, those mottoes <br />stamped on his name-tag: <br />conscience, ambition, and all <br />that caring. <br />He was content to lie down <br />with the family ghosts <br />in the slop of his cradle, <br />buffeted by the storm, <br />endlessly drifting. <br />Peace! Peace! <br />To be rocked by the Infinite! <br />As if it didn't matter <br />which way was home; <br />as if he didn't know <br />he loved the earth so much <br />he wanted to stay forever.<br /><br />Stanley Kunitz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-long-boat/
