Friday, May 17, 2013

Of Obscure Oceans



 

The melting pot on eastern brink
Brims once again with golden-pink
As we embark another day
On living’s loving, learning way

The imminence of what will be
Gleams on a tide we cannot see
While ebony of slumber’s sky
Dissolves into the by and by

Ethereal river, soundless force
Mighty, rushing, muted discourse
Of moment-sparkles whisper-cast
Surging from future to the past

Where is the fount forging your lot?
Where is the sea of gathered naught?
Oh mystic mien of smile and strife
How subtly you shape a life

© Janet Martin

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