Wild Grace
And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell,
and I understood more than I saw
Attributed to Black Elk
She dug a seat in rain-wet sand,
inhaling salt, and pungent seaweed.
Across the inlet, from dusky forest to horizon,
ocean colored herself
in strips of soft teal, faded lapis,
and alabaster blue,
darkening with distance into one thin cobalt line
against languid, tropical sky.
When the odd tears began, she sat,
arms encircling knees,
nails stuffed with grit,
a warm wind rising,
years blowing away, loss and love forgotten.
Here was all and she was here, mute,
her eyes naked and captured,
by a rhapsody of infinite blue.
Mylo Schaaf is the author of Blown into Now – Poems for a Journey, published by Blue Light Press. Her poems have appeared in Haunted Waters Press, Drunk Monkeys Literary Magazine, Passager Journal, Wordpeace Journal, Pandemics Journal, among others. Mylo worked in journalism, book publishing, and as a physician, before taking a left turn into poetry. After the death of Alex, her 24-year-old son, healing poems demanded to be written. http://myloschaaf.com/
And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell,
and I understood more than I saw
Attributed to Black Elk
She dug a seat in rain-wet sand,
inhaling salt, and pungent seaweed.
Across the inlet, from dusky forest to horizon,
ocean colored herself
in strips of soft teal, faded lapis,
and alabaster blue,
darkening with distance into one thin cobalt line
against languid, tropical sky.
When the odd tears began, she sat,
arms encircling knees,
nails stuffed with grit,
a warm wind rising,
years blowing away, loss and love forgotten.
Here was all and she was here, mute,
her eyes naked and captured,
by a rhapsody of infinite blue.
Mylo Schaaf is the author of Blown into Now – Poems for a Journey, published by Blue Light Press. Her poems have appeared in Haunted Waters Press, Drunk Monkeys Literary Magazine, Passager Journal, Wordpeace Journal, Pandemics Journal, among others. Mylo worked in journalism, book publishing, and as a physician, before taking a left turn into poetry. After the death of Alex, her 24-year-old son, healing poems demanded to be written. http://myloschaaf.com/
