SOMEWHERE, BEYOND THE MOON
There is a place somewhere
Where battered souls
Lay down their burdens
Slipping off the tattered clothes
Holding their brokenness together .
It exists far from the land of Oz,
No rainbow bright enough to mark the way
Across the rain-drenched sky.
No wizard's hot air balloon or ruby slippers
Clicking together to end the frightful journey.
Neither is it Neverland with pixie dust or happy thoughts
Or Tinkerbell, or Peter's youth, joy and freedom,
Though lost boys abound, vacant eyes searching for solace
Wandering with sunken cheeks and empty bellies
Hungering for more than food to eat.
The Flying Dutchman, sails all unfurled,
Dips and sinks and climbs the tumultuous waves,
Tossed by the relentless winds, unable to reach shore.
And Sisyphus, watching the boulder,
Careening inevitably down the mountain
Yearns for the quiet place where heroes rest,
Where Atlas sets his burden down
And side by side, they cool their feet
And quench their parched throats
And ease their aching muscles.
There must be a place where the
Tortured carry their breaking hearts,
Grieving losses that beggar tycoons
Who would trade their wealth for one day more.
Of blighted lovers' opened chests,
Spilling grief across the ground,
Shredded and bloody, struggling to barely beat
But beating still, squeezed by forces unknown
They seek a hidden cove
Along an island shore
Where echoes can be stilled
As they inhale Lethe's perfume
Until they heal their scars,
Embroider a close-fitting garment,
Beautiful to the eye,
Stitched from iron silk.
There must be a place
With cooling shade,
With fountains filled with hope ,
With cascading comfort pouring
Down the mountainside
As birdsong filled with joyous trills
Flows forth and finds
Those wretched beings
Helpless in despair
And soothing songs , so sweet and pure,
Spinning round and round,
Shall tame the tempest in their breasts.
Ephemeral, shifting in and out of sight.
A steep and arduous climb , perchance,
Through creeks and brambles,
Storms and droughts,
To claw a pathway,
Until opening like a vast and fragrant field
Cardinals and bluebirds
Circling the sky.
Kathleen Chamberlin is a retired educator living in Albany, New York with her husband and two rescue dogs.