Before the tide, the wind,
the movement of the sea,
there is the pulse
that lives within the heartbeat,
spread before us like pale green moss,
carved with crow and raven feather,
everywhere yet not a thing
except the bird-like eye
beyond the tangled wire,
searing off the bonds on tomorrow.
I love this one Don, like so many of yours, palpably poignant……I love the soft, wet mossy sea feel of the whole thing……
that’s where your poetry emerges from … weekly.
I was just noting an hour ago that there is even relationship with seemingly inanimate objects. After all, I mused, molecules comprise all of Earth, regardless of form. All dancing to the fundamental heartbeat that knows when I ought to weep, or when I ought to laugh. It knows, and Dunhill reminds me.
I went out there with you, way out, searing off the bonds, except the eye
…. you are there Don
Very rich, very beautiful. Can’t be translated. Just enters you. Thanks, my brother, ’twas a much needed balm today.
Excellent and evocative imagery! I get tangled a bit in the grammar, but that may be a fault with the reader!
As I read this, I remembered those old Cymatic videos that showed how vibrations shaped substances. Perhaps the pulse that lives within the heartbeat is like the vibrations that shape all things. As I look out my window at so many forms of green, of homes, of people, I can see as well as feel the pulse as I sit here gratefully loving the heartbeat.