Confluentia

  for Maura Sipilä  

Music tumbles over exuberant waves,
voiced over by circling kittiwakes and gulls,
tumbling joyfully into the sandy shores,
crashing, unquelled, across stony shingle
into the headlands of my heart.

Wherefore, wherefore, ye winds?

To tantalize by stirring a symphony,
knowing that the world is broken,
as if such sonically blooming waves
could fill wounds that gape and cry.

Responses billow from overland:
trees hugged by children send time,
being a representation of timelessness;
gorgeously gazing flowers smile
while bees distribute pollen as favors.

Brooks burble, bubble and babble,
flowing thither from origin to origin,
touching, fresh to salt, in confluence,
merging and surging, joy-joining,
clinging only toward outward release.

Songbirds unwittingly serenade
every small creature that sleeps in shade
given by all that verdantly defines place,
and the bell rung to call forth evensong
reverberates with healing and grace.

© 2018 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen