I have watched the moon rise
over the restless terrain of the ocean.
Light changes wave length on the water,
then rises again from the surface
like a dark glass shattered
to reveal between those spiral splinters
a vision of the true nature of time.
A vision of the cold depth of loneliness,
or of one spark in the darkness,
but how can we explain what is between us?
Is it enough to say
that we have sought each other through
the darkness of forgotten lives
or that we have loved each other
and made love in the place
before consciousness and shall go on
loving beyond the last long sleep?
In a space before words, we heard each other
speaking in the language of photons and electrons,
pulsars and neutrons
and set our passions wandering
over the restless terrain of the ocean
to embrace and know the joy of reunion.
The ecstasy of beginning the dance again,
knowing it has no ending.
We have recreated the miracle
of light like the first women
who struck the first spark and gave birth
to themselves.
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