Volta

an emptiness, sands of  waterless seas

flat pan of ground lipped , beyond

whence I cannot see, beyond its edge

(--)as if the edge of this little world(--)

and lifeless too, defiant of search, reason ,

even madness of a season adrift in thought

as a dance of sun and shadow

incites an urge to spoken words- they too

drift beyond me unheard-

an essence of man and meaning

gone adrift into thinness- a sense of

missing air…

I watch the woman who fills my breath

slowly turn, she walks away…

then grit and pebbles take places of flowers

shadows as gold on the skin of the sea

sands weathered by eons of near stillness

roll like tides to shore,  sensed aromas of brine

sweetness of night blossoms

and memories of this soundless place

witness to silent thunders of missiled meteors

become the music of  lush green valleys

gurgled, cascaded, wind rushed and bird sung…

...she walks away...

night births a flower, petals strewn at my feet
Oh moon, an austere presence  redeemed

into paradise