HORIZON

By John Herlihy

I

Between the green verdure of the earth below
And the blue mirage of the sky above
Lies the thin line of the horizon,
Sealing the lips of the world.

What would it say if the earth could speak?
Would it spin tales of adventure and loss?
But it says not a word and utters no jinx
And remains just as mute as the inscrutable Sphinx.

II

The hem of earth’s garment,
The seam of Heaven’s delight,
A sublime figment of the imagination;
And an example of God’s might.

Lofty with hope for what lies beyond,
Mighty with dreams that may come true ,
Beckoning the weary traveler with its magic wand,
Smoky in the distance like a witches’ brew.

III

It sits there imperious, beyond my reach,
Like a rainbow after a storm you will never breach.
It serves as an inspiration, like a fountain of rum,
Close enough to touch and far enough to come undone.

The cannons of this world fire salvos of hostility and threat;
The church bells toll premonitions of loss and regret.
The jungle drums send warnings that sound like thunder,
The wild wonderful world is being cast asunder.

The cannons, bells, and drums of this world
Now fall silent, as mute as distant stars.
Would that they could be forgotten;
It would be enough if they existed on Mars.

IV

I want to visit the horizon,
Is that asking too much?
I want to sit down at land’s end
And throw away my crutch.

I would dangle my legs and sit on my hands,
Take a deep breath and utter a sigh,
Like a child alone and about to cry,
Pointing to the vast blue heavens on high.

V

What would I see between heaven and earth,
But the holy, black night, full of wandering stars.
The old man in the moon would give me a wink
And I would salute back as I journey to the brink – of neverland.

The earth is wound up like a carpet,
The heavens a rolled up scroll,
And I a ball of yarn unraveling,
The soul released from the payment of its toll.

The final journey to the far land of make-believe,
Through all the broad avenues of the universe to weave,
Leaving behind love’s heart as witness to bear,
Still beating like a clock on the horizon so fair.