Frank Bana

I will spring the closing trap
And jump the disappearing train
Shaking loose the dust of time
And distortions from my brain

I will dip my legs and toes
In rushing tides of history
And in the shallow lakes and pools
That hide the deeper mystery

I will punch a hole of light
With my tightly-wound brave fist
Through the walls that rise into
The hollows of the gathering mist

I will touch the soft damp soil
That once was witness to my birth
And pour the vials of sacred oil
Upon my father's native earth

I will place a smooth round stone
On my late wife's burial mound
And would be more widely known
Before I'm scattered on the ground

I cannot be long constrained
By mere shyness of the will
It is time for me to write
A self-determined codicil

As the sun touches the east
And the storm clouds lift again
I resolve to speak my truth
With a voice and song unchained.