Three times we parted,
Breath and I—
Three times He would not go
But stood to stir the
Flickering fan
The waters strove to stay.
Three times the billows tossed
Me up,
Then caught me like a ball,
Then made blue faces in my
Face—
And pushed away a sail
That crawled leagues off,
I liked to see
For thinking, while I die,
How pleasant to
Behold a thing
Where human faces be.
The waves grew sleepy;
Breath did not;
The winds like children lulled;
The sunrise kissed my
Chrysalis—
And I stood up and lived.
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