|The Tidal Pools|
The tidal pools lie beached within the fjords of bordered sands
beside the azure seas, beneath Atlantic Ocean boardwalks,
birthing glassy leas that mirror trees and dunes and jutting crags—
bits of seaweed, torn rags, paper leaves and blades of grassy turf
upon vast portaled shores.
Each tidal pool conceals a MirrorDoor, whose tiny grains of life,
within that pond of water, spawn the Pleiades’ bands, a microcosm’s
OceanStars of melody and secret scent and haunting harmony—
waves of sweet nostalgia, spacious strands, starfish towns
near mirrored gates of minute lands.
Reflections in God’s eyes, windows into eternal ties
with destiny and days of spatial years displayed,
and sand crabs scuttling back and forth to brine a universe—
much business taking place, news exchange, dragon flies
gliding through the skies of nimbus tides where nothing hides.
Beyond reproach each mirrored door taunts memory and childhood dreams:
The StarKing rides upon the clouds and stops my mouth to speak no more,
His very breath sketches lore, sings me mysteries—
With salty foams and crystal stones I paint you cities tall,
Citadels all! O, you shall find nothing more glorious, dear thrall.
Precious beyond emeralds, my tidal pools are crowned
With ecstasies that drive the engines in the skies
And cast up great volcanic caves as lofty as the torrid waves—
No, you shall find nothing more glorious, at all!
Incandescent as the glimmer-breeze, Love grieves what’s drowned.
|Copyright © 2007 Robert E. Romanelli|