Dust
—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis, CA
ADMIT THE SUNSHINE
—B.Z. Niditch, Brookline, MA
Admit glory to the sunshine dawn
covering the green water falls
here between the ocean and sky
our shadows live in silence
this early morning hour
on the home harbor hulls
anchored in a shade of serenity
motioning for our summer journey
unsealing our kayak memories
along a sailing Atlantic venture
wanting to sleep on the beach
with the sun to our outback
or go along with a procession
of a middle-aged fisher king
unable to move on his mission
until Arthur locates the Grail
or like Melville's Ahab
searches for the white whale
named Moby Dick
all in stories of exiles scouting
for a forsaken world
as Ishmael wanders
amid a once cloudy nimbus
from a passing compass of time
my words follow an apparition
in a poet's now-shrouded trek
along the horizontal shore
waves rise to four winds
to outer reaches of the sea
by the lighthouse of exiles
near unborn waves of riverbeds
a sudden thunder brushes by us
covering the church window praise
as black- or red-winged songbirds
over wonderful distant voices
exalt heaven from an azure sky.
__________________________
Admit glory to the sunshine dawn
covering the green water falls
here between the ocean and sky
our shadows live in silence
this early morning hour
on the home harbor hulls
anchored in a shade of serenity
motioning for our summer journey
unsealing our kayak memories
along a sailing Atlantic venture
wanting to sleep on the beach
with the sun to our outback
or go along with a procession
of a middle-aged fisher king
unable to move on his mission
until Arthur locates the Grail
or like Melville's Ahab
searches for the white whale
named Moby Dick
all in stories of exiles scouting
for a forsaken world
as Ishmael wanders
amid a once cloudy nimbus
from a passing compass of time
my words follow an apparition
in a poet's now-shrouded trek
along the horizontal shore
waves rise to four winds
to outer reaches of the sea
by the lighthouse of exiles
near unborn waves of riverbeds
a sudden thunder brushes by us
covering the church window praise
as black- or red-winged songbirds
over wonderful distant voices
exalt heaven from an azure sky.
__________________________
—Medusa, with thanks to today's contributors. Katy's photo first appeared in The Quality of Light from Rattlesnake Press, 2004.
