Bereft Poem by Mark Heathcote

There are tears I drown in
no raft or boat can sail
no passage can avail
there are tears as deep as oceans
no cloying breath can mainsail
voyage beyond the harbour wall,
the port the hearts-call they'd-long-for.

There are heart tears I drown in
like slave ship oarsman,
that leaves me like flotsam,
drowning inches from shore
like some beached blue marlin,
with its scabbard sword
inward turned, 'divinely penetrating' evermore.