the colour of our lives

poetry • celebration • faith • nature • humanity • imperfections • glory


Manapouri fingers of GodGod’s fingers play idly
on blurred ridges and spurs
sulking under their wig of cloud
on the far shore

On the peopled side of Manapouri, while I
lightfoot over rounded stones with a nimbleness
learned most of a lifetime ago,
energy and passion from a more
virile youth briefly wax, then wane

Soft clay bears marks
like ruptured hearts,
pressed into shape by cloven feet;
rich fluids meet and mix, ochre
as old blood, around rocks
smoothed by flood and waves

Further on, from where someone
made a circle of  stones
just above the waves,
tiny streams have cut ankle-deep
canyons in the sand

I look back to see two dark figures
silhouettes on the beach;
a moment later I turn again
and they are gone

[perhaps 2001, but revised 2011]

Image ‘borrowed’ from NettyA’s photostream on Flickr
– this is what the lake and mountains looked like for me, too

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