Bay of Angels
And if now I share
How I spend my days
Will you feel
Not so far away?
Early dew drenched desert sand
Rises with the morning sun
And I shuffle through
To the water's edge
To the temple
Of dust and salt.
Amidst the clamoring choir
Of closing valves and doors
The far silhouettes
Of a mare's brow,
A guardian's glance,
And a crown appear.
Between here and there
Swim the battalions of angels
Floating then descending
And now settling down
To the worshipping stones
Where they build
Their rising prayers.
Midday my work
Is to collect them
In my net.
Its tangled fibers
I cast out
Over the silver plane
And haul each watery soul
In to my arms
So that I can
Set it free
On the falling tide.
Ceaseless suns
And the warm seas
Heat the sacred stones
Which warm the coming dusk
Disallowing sleep.
And so at night
I mingle with the stars.
I follow Scorpio's emergence
From the Sierra de la Laguna
To the Gulf of Santa Clara
And I search your sky
For new ideas
And redesign the angels.
OCEAN Magazine, Volume 3, Issue 10, Spring 2006
