Drops of Color/ A ‘Sweet’ Bed

Drops of Color
A ‘Sweet’ Bed

Often times
a vessel comes to shore…
fastening itself deep ‘into’ the sands.

The floating phoenix rests its feathers
—flowing sails bed themselves down.

Sometimes ‘repairs’ are made
—a gentle wash from the
salty sea, and endless mollusks
that latch themselves on for a ride.

The sun’s rising and setting
—the view, different from this position.
The cradle of the water’s rock
the boat like a newborn babe
—the ‘trust’
—no matter the tide’s ebb & flow
—carried in darkness & light.

Ashore, the laborer rests.
The nets carrying an abundance
of fishes let-go.

So many arrive in this space
for communion.

Fed on the water’s sumptuous delights
—a banquet.

The tide calls from a 
full moon waning on the waters.

Soon, it is time
once again
to set sail.

The sands—a sweet bed—
each speck
a reprieve
drizzling from the vessel
plunging back into the sea.