By     Rita Summers

Wave Dancer



So this is paradise:

nimble-toed keel
dancing on moon-rimmed waves,
rigging humming faint waltz tunes,
creaking timbers adding bass notes;

and these the angels:

gauze-thin robes of sea spray,
phosphorescent fish
spinning shooting stars
from gold-edged fins;

harp strings heard

through spindrift prisms,
watermusic played
by albatross and pelican,
harmonies from sailors' fingers.

We dance through Eden's waters

and will return,
and will return,
but not before
we've tasted heaven's dawn.



Copyright ©  Rita Summers   1998
 
 

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