B.L. Crinnion November 21, 2023
A soft hand resting on a worn
And fading pier overlooking the rolling
Expanse of warring aquamarine waves.
–The eyes high above peer across the vast seascape,
Eyes glowing brighter and deeper and truer than
The blue waters beyond.
The waves turn to gray and white,
stirring with envy.
They throw themselves with all their malice
Against the strong timber beams,
Hoping to consume her
And reign supreme once again.
But with all their might
–With all their wroth and cunning,
The foaming waves toil for nothing
As even with thrice their numbers
And powerful, hostile winds,
She would always remain dry.
The eyes pierce the expanse
Unconcerned with the sea below,
Looking far beyond to calmer waters
And further beyond, even still
To an ocean of still clouds and swirling bouquets
Of warm maroons and magentas and mangos.
At the heart of this symphony stands the regal Sun,
Proud and content; dimming yet brighter than all below.
As he changes faces from marigold to crimson,
He is struck by the glance of a far-off star.
Wounded by its beauty and strength, He flattens himself more quickly than usual,
Slipping below the bright eyes’ sharp glow.
Eyes still gazing over the horizon,
The sky softens to a cool blue-green,
Imitating the likeness of those eyes washing over it.
As focused and longing as ever,
Her eyes search still
To find her equal in the heavens.
B.L.Crinnion 