Isle of the Dead

Whenever at the museum,
This painting calls me to pause in wonder.
Drawn into vast mystery painted.
No one knows if boat moves toward or away from island.

“The Isle of the Dead” visits in dreams.
Can you hear oars sedately slap the water?
Pull slowly at the oars. Be woman standing, robed in white—
Alone with grief inside the boat. Put your body inside the box.

Who waits upon shore? Who rests within white stone tombs?
Do spirits watch from tall dark trees?
What lurks beneath black quiet water?
If this were your dream, what would it mean?