* * * * Poem For O
Out of the darkness comes a glimmer of hope, whatever that hope may be
dazzling in the dim light in some far off long cave to contemplate.
Dreams come and go like visions on the morning’s horizon or in the garden
petals of the daffodils opening or like a glimpse of sunlight
and then a rainbow in the clouds over the mountain shadows.
Some unsolved mystery of life washes up in the ebbtide on the pebble beach
and the white spray of light mist is left from the creshendoing wave crashing
against the rough carved ledge.
And no more incessant violent sounds of the mad world can be heard
but the sound of the pulsating life of the sea, its greatness and power
swallowing all the tortured souls.
* * *
(c) 1999, Thomas Avery