Delicate seahorse clouds fly
Above the stranded bay
A man on his phone jogs by
But mostly the beach is deserted
Just a few hardcore supplicants
Like us come down to pray
To our great mother the sea
Today might be a day
She lifts a city from her depths
Far out there where the sun
Incites a silver radiance
Of something rippling to the surface
Or is it something that descends
A fiery momentary peace
Not even silence understands
No comments:
Post a Comment