horizon

In 1985, during a long, painful drought of creativity, this poem bubbled up like an unexpected spring of cool water and foretold the next decades of his life. Sometimes referred to as the Prophecy Poem.

there was a season

when I was stronger.

when days lasted longer and wind filled my sails.

there was a reason

for love's trial and error.

ghosts in the mirror were yesterdays' tales.

the winds now are memory.

hope and illusion.

pain and confusion inherit my gold.

but I, I shall live on

the crusts stained with jelly,

filling my belly with morsels and mould.

there is yet a season,

with dragons returning,

the fires yet burning shall lift to the skies.

there must be a reason

to seek the horizons.

to sail for the islands with unclouded eyes.

my sails are of iron. the sun is my shepherd.

and I am the leopard.

the lion. the beast.

alone at the tiller. I seek no more portage.

the winds of an old rage

shall yet drive me east.

copyright William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.