Friday, July 04, 2014
A man is washed upon the shore of a beach,
His face twisted, contorted, fighting for a breath of air.
A starfish, sunning on the shore, lays flat on the ground nearby,
Searching for a way back in the water.
Sea gulls scream overhead, begging for food,
A glimpse of foreign land. There is none on the horizon,
Save for the salt sea air and a rainbow
That has appeared after a storm.
The day has just broken over the horizon; light
Has fallen still. The man gets up, wakes up,
His thoughts are calm, ready as anything;
His body moves like water, as he tiptoes over the
Hot sand, as he moves with the rhythm of the
Crashing waves. The earth is not still; his body
Is a movement of geometrical shapes, perfect
In every way. The ocean sings; the rainbow dips
Above the rocks, there is no gold at the other end,
Save for a lone star fish who flops out of the water
And onto the dry land.