Deep are the sighs of unsung mariners,
Drifting gently upward out of bottomless canyons
Over hills and mountains
Through snowdrifts and clouds,
They make their way
Calling the stars (so far out of reach);
Calling the moon (dispassionate waning gibbous);
Calling the trees (for the spineless tools they are);
Calling the ocean,
Cry to the waves for the songs of land,
The endless dark crashing and shifting and moving.
Plead for stability. Remembrance. Peace.
Beg for an end to this oppressive
Deep are the sighs of unsung mariners.
Sigh no longer.
I sing you now;
I bring you