Unless

you are a harbor
willing to receive
only one sturdy vessel
into your soft smooth cove
ready to provide
an anchoring rock for this one swaying ship

let me pass to sail alone
through all life's storms
to dash myself against
old viking northern shores
where a frozen grave
will be my end

unless
you are a strong warm cave
accepting one wild mountain lion
who dashes here and slashes there
seeking his refuge deep inside you
where you protect no other

let me pass to wander down the path
with never a mate to walk along
to climb the highest mountain
in my range--to die up there
at the highest peak--
a pile of bleaching bones