~ Who Is Tomorrow ~just as I was the day before yesterday. Where the water's subtle mouth meets the perilous edge of day, where cold stone cut from a marble bed stands black against the mortal clay, where the nightbird calls from the white ash tree yet I can not answer - only pray to the moon while observing silent shapes moving out on the dark of the bay. You are tomorrow and I am wanting to believe in the power of the altar stone, to wrap my heart in a winding sheet and touch my head to the relics bone, to drink from the everlasting cup and speak in a tongue that's not my own. But how now can I deny the shapes being moved by a hand unknown? You are tomorrow and I am watching, from the bloodstone wall with a distant eye on a pierced horizon's lone white sail silhouetted against an uncertain sky, on the crest of a wave that can not surrender to the pull of the moon. How is it I see the shapes of the storm that's drawn to us by the fates we attempt to defy? Today and every day, You are tomorrow, just as you were yesterday. Perhaps I'll See You Then? Back to Poems |
