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Daybreak - Georgian Bay

It is midsummer on the old stone cliffs
and the sun cracks the wide horizon.
I stand fresh from my dreams as waves
whisper the secrets of their journey,
curl and clutch the gray stone shore
and pull sand into the deep green bay.

The old pine trees mutter in the breeze,
anxious for the warmth of the rising sun,
and like the birds I am silent. The light
spills in from the distant line where sky
and water meet, where night and day
slide apart to show the long slow curve.

The cliff edges have been softened
by the persistent wind. I stand alone
in the warm footprints of those who
have stood before me. My dreams
are blown into the waiting trees
as the world is once again revealed.

4
Listen to poem >
Tomorrow

A wish upon the shore
leaps forward only to retreat
beneath another wave.

This bluster against
the granite cliff grinds
each day into sand.

Tomorrow I will stand
and turn my eyes
out to sea and watch,

watch
an eagle wing
manipulate the earth,

watch
the silent toil of roots
undo the strength of mountains,

watch
deep woods' decay
build the soil of certainty,

watch
a wish drag the hard edges
into the phosphorescent dark.

5