Wearing a shadow for a covering,
in the coolness of a morning that is not—
for night and day are but a seeming,
guiding that rarest of miracles: vision
—Over this silent music presides the moon,
calling all divine light to rise and water to lie,
and quickening every frozen seed to song
from all measures of waiting slumber.
calling all divine light to rise and water to lie,
and quickening every frozen seed to song
from all measures of waiting slumber.
Such mathematical and unseasonal observances,
of celestial bodies hurtling forward through space,
should swerve and realign misguided churnings
that might trouble a perfect harmonic turn.
of celestial bodies hurtling forward through space,
should swerve and realign misguided churnings
that might trouble a perfect harmonic turn.
In this here and now, wearing a shadow for a covering,
water lies in hushed witness to what eternal moment,
seemingly, is reflected on this still and tensile Bay,
water lies in hushed witness to what eternal moment,
seemingly, is reflected on this still and tensile Bay,
unaware of any unseemly ripple over the fabric of time.
© 2018 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen
