At the Crossing

the revolving moon has sucked the tide out
and in its wake for this breath
we are just that much closer

the water's edge is a nice reprieve
from the mowing clamors of the city
blanketing the streets at night

can you feel the kisses blown your way
from my direction? they are
endless in fervor and imagination

my path is lit neither by sun nor moon
rather by a mass of glowing bodies
of jellyfish hovering near the surface

this congregation is particularly ancient
in their slow undulating movements
transfixing a starlit path

we are now both so young and old
engaged anew in this timeless narrative
fresh as each new radiant sunrise

fully felt against the ocean's horizon
a resplendent blinding white curtain
silent and shimmering with awe