Even the sun
knows nothing of the sea's mirror;
still the sea
gives back his reflection just the same.
What I wanted was
something else, something
more distant, more tender, perhaps
more impossible.
What I wanted was
the beat of the close heart in the dark,
the moon's calm, your white wing,
the cool hand that soothes and promises nothing.
Not this broken earth, with its
doomed star sinking in the west,
the wings of wax,
and the sea's blue jewel, scattering her lights.
So I hurl this brittle
stone of a voice against their silence,
chanting "relate...relate",
shattering stone and mirror.
Jim Long
Honolulu, USA
Tuesday, August 14, 2001
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