What Lassiter Lost

WHAT LASSITER LOST

What Lassiter lost was
what he thought, grief
for what he thought found,
what he thought gold, a reef.

What Lassiter lost was
timidity, insanity, call a reef
what you will, the dry desert
is its own sea of shipwreck.

What Lassiter lost in death
was lust, the gold-madness
that grows on a mammon
breast, suckling-coined.

What Lassiter lost was
life, drawn in to death
by the slakeless surface
of mineral hard hope.

What Lassiter lost was
love, the sweet maiden call
of virgin-cleft hills clad
in blue veils of old longing.

What Lassiter lost was
company, the fellowship
of those who go out to
join the chorus of song.

What Lassiter lost was
the grail of holy cause,
the call,the purpose to embark
under the ship of faith's sails.

What Lassiter lost was
equanimity, that peace
which comes in ruthful
redemption of desire.