Where do you go
To catch briefest glimpse
of seaward light?
The ocean, you say.
But why? When azure sky
Mirrors such salty depths
And transfigures all in between.
The balance rests on fishermen's shoulders,
I said as both child and old man,
Ready for the waltz with Old Man Bones
Always a stone's throw, skipping and hopping,
Such formidable tides away.
I've glimpsed liquid light in caverns
And mountaintops, in forgotten schools,
And the tired trudge of the banker's
Blistered-feet parade, such material weighted as it is.
What wraps us in shroud
Until we ascend Mystery's star-shaken ladder
Forsakes the moment and betrays the stretching eternal
Of teardrop's glimmer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem