Framed sacred in a silver eye, moon-luminous,
The reach of palm, like the limb of sky,
Silhouette formed from the spray of word,
Light-created, light-contained, islands the scattered
Truths left in the currents of the water’s song.
Dual, wind-wrought, wide-winged crowns, the sea and sky,
Music of the air in sailfull breezes,
In corridors long separate from the sun,
Tight muscle of the mind in green, deep burn,
In the splay sacrifice of fluted night,
A harp and reeded breath lift outward the clouds,
And sculpt the sound between dark depth and stars,
The final verge of wave and higher wind.
Wind touches tide in current, wavefold places,
Time cyclical and errant-shaped between two times,
The motion of all currents rounding life,
Formed by celestial, star-shot eternity,
Wheeling air and tide, the line and liquid moment,
Jewelled rulership of rippling sea and island-cast creation.