Standing upon a terminal of the Pacific,
I am as calm as the waves.
As the sun falls
The colors gradient and gasp an infinite breadth
Of nothingness between the bowing photons.
I am dreary and blue,
Blue as lapis,
Listening to the waves that make no sounds--
But the sifting sands on the edge of the earth.
There is haze on this day,
And the light asks me to see it differently
Than all the days before
It calls to me, an empty voice, saying to me
That it carries the birds
And the winds
And the gulls
And the sins
Of my friends and brothers who live amongst the hills
And dine amongst the trees
And cry together between their sheets
Of metal and mold
Plastic and cold,
The earth gives me a shiver upon my skin.
In this everything,
I am lost.
In this moment,
I am skin.
On the border of the horizon that cuts
The oceans and the air
Ships without sails fight the gales and win,
Coming to rest in their deliverance.
Sep 23, 2019
Sep 23, 2019 at 2:55 PM UTC
Standing upon a terminal of the Pacific,
I am as calm as the waves.
As the sun falls
The colors gradient and gasp an infinite breadth
Of nothingness between the bowing photons.
I am dreary and blue,
Blue as lapis,
Listening to the waves that make no sounds--
But the sifting sands on the edge of the earth.
There is haze on this day,
And the light asks me to see it differently
Than all the days before
It calls to me, an empty voice, saying to me
That it carries the birds
And the winds
And the gulls
And the sins
Of my friends and brothers who live amongst the hills
And dine amongst the trees
And cry together between their sheets
Of metal and mold
Plastic and cold,
The earth gives me a shiver upon my skin.
In this everything,
I am lost.
In this moment,
I am skin.
On the border of the horizon that cuts
The oceans and the air
Ships without sails fight the gales and win,
Coming to rest in their deliverance.
Request permission to use this poem