The Banquet of Life

Nature

The only witness to myself

remaining at the banquet of life.

Promises and hopes, where are you now?

You, Nature, keep blowing, whistling, drying

this desert-parched mouth,

an empty dwelling of elusive words.

You, wave of the sea,

fill the lunar silence

with your mute alphabet,

a crossword of sand and salt.

Flashes of color flicker across the horizon,

kisses in an endless ebb and flow of peace.

Here I remain, eternally motionless,

I polish my thoughts and laugh,

I trace tears along these wrinkles, carved into furrows,

and I breathe. You breathe. I breathe.