Contemplative Moorings (A Reject From My Book)

Like two islands that reach out of their isolation
and capture one another in an eager pose
above the tumbling currents, we leap
all reasonable stirrings of a particular moment.

Whose rocks tower over us, we do not break.
We are nested in their salty crevices
echoing through the thunderous wave breaks
with a curious fear.

To inhale: to dream.
A potency: a gleaming blue.
The sun sets on the old world.

And the canopy of stars is no longer an illusion
but a fertile anchor upon the wild seascape.

Copyright 2011 by Michael Marsters.
All rights reserved.

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6 thoughts on “Contemplative Moorings (A Reject From My Book)

  1. I don’t think I would say ‘choppy’, but I do think the poem’s rhythm subtly changes (which I like) and it (for me) ends with a lovely resolution. I love the final two lines and also, ‘A potency: a gleaming blue’. Too good to be classed as a reject!

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