Morning has come.
I sit, in meditation this morning
Outside, cool winds running
And I look off, to the distant
Range of waters, that
Shimmer in the moonlight
Coming down, through
The clouds, that move
Like shadows.
As I silence, my self,
The waters continue
Their whispering.
And they are saying
Stay clear, in the ripple
Of the day, in time.
In time with them,
I’m thinking, like my
Heart, beating slow
Like the rhythm of
The waves, churning
In their gestured grasp
Of the shoreline
That is rocky teeth
Consuming the edge
Of herself. Still
Even in these
Forces of nature
There is that
String, that thread
Of peaceful gather
That is the motion
Of You, your grace
As you make your
Way through
The clamor of your
Days, rattled with
No(n)sense, that
Rattles ’round you
Like insistent
Insects, looking
For blood, in
You, the rich field
Of nourishment, the
Nurture of your
Mere glance.
So, in this piece
Of peace, I contemplate
You, there —
Missing you
Here, in the
Study of these things.
—
the islands north
3.33am