Sun and Sea (2004)

The sun rolled westward
in its golden car
where it met then mated
the great sea’s coilage,
their child this ire
of new and old blue fire.
The poet I know works
well at this depth,
surrounded by the sea’s
submergings at this
deep station before dawn,
light over my shoulder,
books sprawled in my lap,
eyes wide open
to the fins which rise
and winnow by.
This poem wings
best below the bower
of its parentage, singing
of that dazzling soak
which wombs the next
great day. Wheels of
that car turning slow but
inside wifely blue
sighs, furrowing the
marge which shouts
in birthing exultation
the firmament of sky
with its huge hoary sun
astride a dolphin’s back.
What more need I say?
Two cultures wooed and
won the whale roads
of this swiving heart:
one emerges here singing
astride a blue shining cart.