Solace Hymn Heard from Far Away

Yesterday, the smell of pineapples, the pearlescent dawn mist

Over the sleepy Pacific, a kind of lullaby, an almost cure for

Understanding: I did not want to fall in love here.

Rarely, these pleas are heard over the tides' indigo moan

All asking what miracles could come from whipped steel water

I wanted to be someplace I could hold you.

Nowhere is the line between a shore and a wish. A grotto snores

Over a grove of citrus trees, a mountain weepingly birthing a river.

Now, a city of lights dream-stops to greet secret-laden stars

Moon-song and moon-hush glistening on the fractured lagoon:

Enter silence, exit slumber. Enter want, exit rest.

I am awake now and full of morning.

So tomorrow, a storm seizures near the island, flashes

Keeping track of wayward mango trees.

Yellow trains bustle people back to the ocean's lips.

You are an answered prayer too far away.

Off the coast, a temple of whale-priests chant for new faith

Under clouds that translate sunbeams. Everything sails home.