What Can Be Done?

This swirling universe
Parade of color and sound...
Attuned to shifting
Rhythm of heart...
Heart drunk with a fools brew
Of pain and sorrow...
Careening wildly as if
Captained by a lunatic... 
Pushing up from the secret depths...
Bruising tender, encapsulating flesh...
Pain so acute it feels like fainting!
What can be done with this flailing heart?
What balm is there
To mend this brokenness...
To still the reckless gallop long enough
For scab to scar and then to heal?
What hand to guide this little heaving boat?
What eyes consider compass
And direction?
Is there an unknown destination
Out beyond the horizon...
Where someone stands, willing 
To catch a life line
That can moor this tenderness
To solid ground...?

William Stanhope
Hawkscry
11/25/12