on the
southwestern shore
at the edge
of the sea,
a path
appears sometimes....
it leads
not over the tawny hills
burnished
with golden crackling grass
and dotted
with cockle burrs….
it doesn’t
wander the sandy dunes
chasing the
inconstant breeze….
or seek for
shade under the eaves of
crumbled
greying bluffs….
it shifts
and moves—
rides the
tides,
lifting and
falling
through translucent
night....
when the
planet aligns,
so that
moon and fog and earth and sea
are all in
agreement,
a rolling
fountain of diamonds appears….
to any who
come to the shore
and brave
their inner silence….
free
enchantment….
riches….
secrets revealed….
to those
who look….
•
we stand
here
all alone,
we think….
encapsulated
in our skin….
our
thoughts….
yet filled
with
whirling
energy….
electrons
and protons zinging
constantly through
our charged bodies….
we glow
with hidden life….
we teem
with what we cannot see….
like the waters….
the
grasslands….
the secret
standing woods….
the merest
rocky outcropping
propels a
thousand lives along their days….
and every
moment,
a million
possibilities
swirl in
our direction….
•
have you
once looked on
that
shifting silver path?
those bright
sparks
leaping,
grouping,
dancing on
the cold black liquid below?
have you
ever
for a moment
imagined
walking out
upon it….
to some
undreamt-of future?
standing in
the between
of earth
and sea and sky….
we are as
alone
as this glimmering
path,
and as full
of dancing sparks….
________________
©2015 Beth Anne Boardman
