Salt Pools

There are salt pools I’ve stood by
among dunes
to look at one would think oneself
the altitude of jets above
a landscape nearly bare of foliage, dry land
that lays out clearly the effects
of periodic wetness.

There I’ve undressed and swam
and made and felt small waves
as if I were the land
and could not touch a grain
of sand without precipitating
infinite sensation.

There I’ve lain like a reflection
propagated under sun
growing by particles into the air
quickening breathlessly
beyond earth’s pull like light thrown off
the planet’s body till one layer
within eternity’s expanding sphere.

But love to you like raindrops
I return, which gather in descent
not only all earth’s force but its extent
turned inward in one image
like concentric seed. We rush
worlds yet to be, each time we touch.

 

Ocean within

Ocean within
one shell—
swirled sound—
cocoon
within which I
might now
repose—softly
& slow &
metamorphose.