Moonstruck beauty
of the sea, wind-driven
from flood tide’s peak,
chased south along
the old salt veins
of gravity
and night shadow.
Root me deep
beside the waters,
burnt by sun
like yellow grass,
tell the crows
I’m gone tomorrow,
yet for these moments
holding fast.
Reading of “For These Moments” with music by Enya.
Don, nice thoughts today. Yes, hold fast, my friend.
I like the cadence of this lovely poem.
Love the moonstruck beauty of this photo and your windswept words!
But for what is caught up in time…what abides is “birthless, deathless, changeless…”
Bravo, Don! “I’m gone tomorrow, yet for these moments holding fast.” Let us all treasure the precious beauty of today. Mike