The dear palms ***** down
to the white shore
up to the sea
and still beyond
when the sun
turns the water into a mirror
and they seem stars
adorning the fronds
and rays
that the moon forgot
to take with it last night.
I cannot avoid stopping
and I follow
the winding path to the beach
down
on the tepid sand
that my feet wraps up.
Only me in the entire universe
my body motionless
my mind still
I breathe
and I feel the air coming in
then nothing
if not the whole

and still beyond

where the backwash calls
and delicate invites
to listen to the quiet
so as to dip into the sky.

12.6.'14