They are waiting on the shore
  For the bark to take them home:
They will toil and grieve no more;
  The hour for release hath come.

All their long life lies behind
  Like a dimly blending dream:
There is nothing left to bind
  To the realms that only seem.

They are waiting for the boat;
  There is nothing left to do:
What was near them grows remote,
  Happy silence falls like dew;
Now the shadowy bark is come,
  And the weary may go home.

By still water they would rest
  In the shadow of the tree:
After battle sleep is best,
  After noise, tranquility.

///

Ferry-Luggage by Laura M Kaminski

I, too, stand upon this shore
  Barefoot, with my toes in foam:
I will need my shoes no more;
  I am only going home.

It is hard to hold in mind
  All the blessings I’ve received:
Every person who was kind
  Every comfort when I grieved.

I am waiting for the boat
  My hands filled with memories,
And my basket overflows
  With life’s generosities;
Will the boatman ferry me
  Though I have not come empty?

Time to leave this carnival,
  Curtsy deeply to the host;
Time to catch a ride back home:
  Barefoot; heart full; board the boat.

—
Laura M Kaminski grew up in Nigeria, went to school in New Orleans, and currently lives in rural Missouri. She is an Associate Editor at Right Hand Pointing. More about her poetry is available in her interview with THE STRONG LETTERS.