What the Rower Dreamed

What the Rower Dreamed

The rower slept deeply, then,
And saw
Push off from shore
Twenty-six shells,
In each a lone flame
Burning brightly
In the depths of dream.

Their oars broke the ghostly
Surface of the water,
The oars of the lone flames
Stroking away from shore,
And however far out they rowed,
Burned brightly
In the depths of dream.

From Newtown they had set out,
The lone flames rowing
Across the water, the lone flames rowing
Far out to where
The horizon keeps moving further away.
Yet they burned brightly
In the depths of dream.

Henceforth, from the shore of Newtown’s torn heart
They rowed, the lone flames,
Burning brightly in the minds of the living,
The lone flames’ lovely smiles
Smiles of the living,
Smiles burning brightly
In the depths of dream.

Their giggling laughter, shouts of joy,
Their tears, their insuperable
Beauty, their innocence,
Their bravery beyond comprehension,
All these impress the heart of memory,
Burning, burning brightly
In the depths of dream.

The the rower woke
And found the dream
Real in his memory,
The twenty-six lone flames rowing,
Unforgotten in eternity,
Twenty-six flames mending, with their lovliness,
The torn, torn hearts of the living,

In the depths of reality,
In the depths of us,
Twenty-six flames rowing
Their love to us,
Their insuperable love in us
Never to be forgotten.

Philip Kuepper
(15 December, 2012)

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