I am covered in Dawnlight
My snow boots deeply sunk into the night
And sun melting the icicles in my hair.
I fill my pockets with blue crisp stars
And lift myself into your arms.
But when I try to show you the light in my pockets
You see nothing but the beauty of my skin
Tanned by summer days.
And when I dance, I dance alone
With the moon singing in my thoughts.
We are consumers of grace,
A forever renewable greenery
Gardened by a gatekeeping horizon
Opening and closing its borders
Before our dream-bespectacled scrutinization,
Feeding our numbness alternately
with empty words and promises.
The morning is white and
Sinless in its Christening gown.
The sea half-dark in the low
Under the paling February sky
A network of narrow light shafts,
Matronly guarding islands
Like deep green
Sharp Rock-layered cliffs,
Pour, from invisible palms,
Grace over the cupped land.
All stretches out,
Changeable, dim and moody.
A bright-lit swathe of
And an intricate web of bays
Still admitting the inscrutable
Tides of cognition.