Ahab Poem by richard poor

does the white whale call to you
as it does to myself
silent at first but true
till in your soul it's wealth,

my life is a fervent chase
across the understanding of god
there to that empty space
where the tangles of sin are shod,

i plunged my desire burning
into flesh to the bone
all while death was yearning
holding open the gates to home,

so there is only the need
to own, to destroy and then
the satisfaction of the greed
until it rises again.