Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Tumon Bay, Guam

listen to the podcast -- downloable audio file

You plunged into my heart – a dagger of light
before awakening – I was sleeping, you see;
Beyond the monotony of longing
somewhere there is a distant rumbling.
Is it simple thunder or the prescient knowledge
of your meeting me here – bright and hot –
in the glister, the orange-blue shimmer
of water at sunset? Ripples mar the surface.
It may be easier to stay in the deep
semi-transparent sleep where I can keep
my fantasies from leaping
into some unlucky storm;
I glow when the fire shocks righteous
the cloud and the water I swim in.
But I close my eyes.
You are not there at all are you?
The dagger of hot, white light
is what swims underneath
the warm water I’m now knee-deep within;
The scent of oranges, peeled –
A lime squeezed – an abrupt
morning metaphorical shift: of citrus
and a kiss.