I am a wispy cloud
across a horizon
where eye meets I,
trying to occupy a definite space
in a precise time
where lines don’t blur
and there is clarity of form.
Hard to tell where cloud ends
and sky starts,
where ocean eases into air.
I stay there
hiding in a current
carried along and dropped on sand soft,
floating in the velvet dew of morning,
sleeping in the diamond
punctured onyx of night.
The blue sky, the black sky,
the white cloud — I,
the passenger who exists by the hand of the painter.
I am a shadow playing on the waves,
an eye in the sea learning about seeing,
a coalescing consciousness coming into being -
an aural phantom, a discordant note
trying to bring the melody back around
from white to blue to white to blue.
A silent ballerina pirouetting the tide,
coming full circle.