When the boat comes for Elysium
it is small and filled with lavender.
Its wood is smooth and a white flag
bearing the script of ancient hymns quietly braves its bow.
When I step in I hear my mother’s voice.
There is moss everywhere,
green like the watered hillsides where children run free.
To the north there lies so much light.
And behind me only sea.
When I hear the soft weeping of those left behind,
it is so tender and I don't look back.