Treasure Island

Kewayne Wadley

(1987- / Groton, Connecticutt)

Variations


In the wake of the day
The waters pause
The winds move in mid stride, coming to a calming hush
Searching for a place that causes this implosion that causes the sun to light the sky from dark to light
In the mist of action, it comes natural to do as such
No longer does it know
as it swoops down to drink from the water's cusp
The wind caresses the water with its touch
Gently easing the wrinkles that's grown frustrated across its surface
If there were such words to show appreciation for its generosity
If there were such action that could speak through a single stare
The overcast isn't far now
It gently moves to the curvature of the waters grasp
seeping deeper in each glance
Opening the door to its fragrance
Opening the window to a view not seen as often
For It does not see race, nor religion as it sips from the currents cusp
It simply sees it for what it is
A blessing
Without fingers to grab
Without eyes to see
Still it feels
As the sun's shimmer reflect off the water as it does at dawn
Without absence
Lost in the praises given to them by the heavens above
The genesis of something so precious
Grateful, feeling helpless to its touch
for if they part its only moments at a time
Just as day turns to night, and night turns to day
Its presence can still be found

Submitted: Wednesday, August 20, 2014

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Topic(s): love

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