THE BIRTH OF ISLANDS Poem by Olive Senior

Fire at the core
Necklace of ash, stone, coral.
Islands emerge, submerge or shift
with continental drift. Islands
are not immortal. Without you,
islands could never be. You
are the portal. Islands are born
from your longings.

See how easy:
The spoon stirs up the void
Seabird drops its egg
A sand-grain launches itself

You blow breath on the ocean

Something breaks out on the face of the water