mystic sea — a tiny poem

out here on the edge of the shore

you watch light

shattering the clouds

the blue moving into openings

the shrill call of gulls


so much on the island’s horizon

a writer’s sea of loneliness


in the fog

there are tales to tell

words spilling like waves

washing past wreckage

plundering past pillage

a flotsam

a keen intervention

the clean sweep

pulls, tidal, receedes

along the reeds

shore of memories

slivered silverlight


beckons, pearly

late afternoon

the colors of the washed stones


the little bones of the birds

or in the mist

a stretch of lions


dip, rolling

fins crest like totems

all under the great glassy haze

of the inner sky

where the heart learns

it can float


the shore of silence

the long lived ways and days

monastic now

watching wind


“mystic sea” — copyright 2011 — all rights reserved

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