I met him on the pier where he was born,
With paper lanterns floating in the ocean.
His eyes were silver-lined…
The warning colors of a thunderstorm.
Lightning swimming in the midnight blue,
Ever-changing with emotion.
He made me a locket out of stars,
To keep our wishes in.
Vowing the light would guide him home,
Should I ever find myself without him.
Gazing into the open sea,
While making a path to lead him to me,
Casting colored glass in the sand at my feet.
The wind carries the light out above the moon,
And breaks the surface of the water,
He’ll be home soon…
…and I’ll be waiting.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
Love,
Mom
hugs
Fee
I love the imagery and your word usage has always been so superb. Peace, Love and God's Blessings Always, Paul.
" ... his eyes were silver lined
the warning colors of a thunderstorm
Lightning swimming in the midnight blue
Ever changing with emotion ...."
Well done, entire poem -
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Great heartfelt writing.
Pierre