Towards Clarity

You know what it's like:
intensity of night
entering the trees
before even the sky succumbs;
a sea so perfect and deep
it scorns paint and celluloid;
shock fall of hair
blind with sunlight
swift heavy
scattering your vision to wheat fields
or the tossed softness of silk
in pollen-bright sun.
This love
fiery, solar-born
I expose to,
for it's scorch full on my face.

Quick like that
flash-bright like that
dazzling like that
I ignite for you.


But you shake gold flecks
from your sight
steady yourself from impact
one hand reaching behind
to find anchor in the cold rock,
draw breath
in the shades of years'
long-bred patience:
'It will pass.'

I came with summer in my eyes
the bare passions of hope,
saw chords
thrum their vibrancy in you
watch them tautening now
to measured meaningless words
you yourself admit
wash as so much driftwood
to a flameless fire.

Now you will endure
long nights, the dark as blank page,
sea's pale clawing at the grey beach,
the constant irritation of the eye
you rub but keep secretly
to remind you
you saw it burn
inside the perilous calm of your days.

From Peverse Serenity