Arts + Scene » Poetry




sometimes the lines on the map are redrawn
and we must dispose of latitude and longitude
sometimes the ships leak and take on water
and we must repair the woody damage
and sometimes the sun comes up in places where
compass and quadrant could never conceive of
such a fiery birth

so when the creatures of the deep
(woken from their sleep by sailors seeking harbor)
turnabout, with a flash of fishy scales
and power in their splashing tails,
then we come to understand that
loss cannot be confined within finite boundaries
cannot be made whole through effort prescribed by time
will not respond to the engines of heat and gravity

will never cease to exist
as long as love comes to us
comes to the surface, unexpected
breathing and joyous
seeing - and longing to be seen

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