Horizon Line

Dots on an edge of moon cream sand

gazing to sun’s lift luminous as a golden God

forming his ball of light over an indigo oceanic unknown.

We’re stuck in tender assumptions of the other’s needs that keep us from a fool’s 

cliff leap with it’s essential awakening

trust

to be caught buoyant and beautiful in the horizontal world

no more, no less

but alive.

I followed you into pressured depths where bottom sands stirred primitive shark silhouettes indifferent

as assassins

where we huddled in our humanity

breakable as the dried bones of birds baking on the ancient rocks that snapped white and weightless in 

our bare seeking hands.

Even in the beckoning shallows you saw the slicing fins cut turquoise water to feed fiercely on their floundering dinners.

Smirking, you spoke of Antarctica’s ice wall at the edge of the world.

I wonder what’s beyond.

Home

My senses underwater dulled.

I think of miraculous lives where doors fly open like welcoming arms leading 

the chosen one’s back to the truth of themselves.

But shrouded in dormant indecision, wayward, watching.

The sky blankets a brightness beyond reach as

I yearn to spark your young risk into oxygen’s clear light

opening like water trickling from blocked ears

clearing hearing the inner voice old and wise and worthy as the humpback calling her kin through the underworld.

May my words dance like the tides who wave their lines loose in the sand.

May they echo across horizons into the land of miracles where

all new days are born.