The Poet on a Beach
If you do not find me on the beach,
look for me in the caves
that follow darkness
into the sea.
In the moments I am the sun,
my face is a prayer. My heart sings.
In the moments I am water stilled
and drained of life, I am no one's elegy,
least my own. Quietly I become,
amidst the moss, a nothing.
Know that the beauty of my smile
as my feet are warmed by the sand -
so treacherous, this sand, so bent on eluding me -
is the selfishness of my love for life,
my affection then is as catholic
as the empty geniality of the sun.
Look for me in the caves, or hope
that is where you find me.
And if I hear the evenness of your steps,
if they pierce the wet clamor
about my ears, I'll turn to you
and try to smile. And you shall know,
possessed of the gift of my sadness,
that you have me.