Follow by Email

Friday, 26 April 2013

...and on the third day...



Returned to that hut by the rust-painted rocks

where, once, I saw the sun set, veiled in her

contrived modesty and blushes, and later,

where I saw the sun rise erect

in his fantastic oriental pride.

O, lovely show off!


I saw you lift up from underneath the night,

from underneath the tousled bird-blue bedding

of a crumpled sea…

Such a rising up of the day, it was,

appearing, engorged, from under the gently rippling

raw silk of the sea…


The conceited peacock,

standing to attention outside my window,

guardian of the liquid light,

wearing his ludicrous little crown,

craned with admiration at the regal uprising

of the day…


The sweet applish leaves of the cider gums,

busy in their soft chatter,

were suddenly hushed and suspended,

alert to his salt-stung breath…

and the rowdy authority of the rooster,

watcher of the long grey hours,

was held at bay by the morning’s inflamed glory-

the miraculous resurrection of the day.


And O!  my lovely! what heavenwards delights

ascended with the pulsing incarnation,

the blissful optimism,

of that day!


No comments:

Post a Comment