Stella Maris – a poem by Gregory Lobas

Stella Maris	
                    Mary, Star of the Sea		
                    Ocracoke Island, North Carolina

in the churchyard's quiet  
corner where leaves 
collect she stands   
gaze unbroken to the sea
somber
steady
one tear
stains her left cheek
	~
where are your children
Mother
what can be done 
to save them
what expanse
would you not 
brook to bring
them safely home
you know better
than we the perils
awaiting on the waves
	~
what tear falls for me 
Mother
is it the time
I've wasted
flesh I've feted
doors left unopened
have I been grateful
for the sea
and all it contains
	~
from your vantage 
among the stars
your silent witness 
unwavering
can you see 
the speck of me 
the canopy of night
like a magician's robe
reveals and conceals
in endless folds 		
	~			
long have I struggled
as one who rows 
blind in the night
like John of the Cross
your shimmer 
on the water
lights my way 
not to the distant shore
but to the crest
of the next wave 
	~
nothing left
but trust 
a choice when 
there is no choice
I fold my hands
	~
beneath your light  
o bright and morning star
conspicuous in your dark 
cape of wind
I feel the first cold 
filaments of my leaving

Gregory Lobas is the author of Left of Center (Broadkill River Press, 2022) which won the Dogfish Head Poetry Prize. His work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies, such as Thin Places & Sacred Spaces, Tar River Poetry, Cimarron Review, Vox Populi, Susurrus, and many others. He is a retired firefighter/paramedic living with his wife Meg and dog Sophie in the Hurricane Helene-ravaged area of western North Carolina