The Gate of Isis


To have placed a foot on many a land,
And seen the sea caress at foreign sand,
To see the quiet eyes of a native’s pain
Is to recognise yourself being vain,
And when you are silently overcome,
All the joys will rain the tears of the sun,
It will wash your soul and the green land clean,
Your eyes will become what they have not been
And will give to your heart all truth’s content,
Fusing body and soul in atonment,
The rock will soften to sand when you slip,
The wind will direct the sails of your ship,
The sea will lighten the weight of your oars,
Till your foot embeds its shape on the shore.