Photon Psalm

Oh my Beloved, what is this ache?
this longing, this missing
link to wholeness through you?
What is this black iron will
without a flint to spark a flame?
What is this cobalt voice
without a song, these hands
motionless, this metallic day without
a poem of possibility?

You, my Beloved, completed my inner being.
You colored me on a canvas of love,
intended me to be bold of hue,
a full spectrum of stain.
You fashioned me whole
from all the elements,
salts of the earth,
electrons designed by you,
to make that quantum leap
toward your pure light.

And yet, today I am merely crimson
bent low in primal red,
a lithium lost and alone.
Without even an apricot orange
to stir my cold coals, I say
Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,
incomplete.

But you tell me
the edges are most difficult to see.
And you promise the night
will burnish in a patina like the day,
shadow will wed sunlight and you will know me.
So I face the darkness within,
breathe deep into my sacrum
and grasp the root of my being,
the lowest note of my song.
With only a will to be and trust in you,
I aim for the verdant green of my heart.
I come to you in love,
with gratitude unfolding,
I sing a quiet horizon song
between dark earth and azure.
Slowly, slowly, I unfurl toward your violet light.
Maybe today I will see indigo,
and my yellow will greet your blue
at the emerald center of the rainbow.

Marching On

A poem in gun-metal gray,
may there be peace
in the sky today.

Seagulls cry, high
then land
on moss covered rooftops

anticipating patches of blue.