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the lantern at low tide
The Lantern at Low Tide
At the pier’s end,
a lantern swayed in the wind,
its light holding back
the dark by inches.
The tide had gone out hours ago,
leaving the seabed bare —
a map of ridges and hollows
drawn by hands no one remembers.
Somewhere in the shallows,
a fish turned once,
as if to read the lantern’s flicker
like a message meant for it alone.
When the wind dropped,
the light kept moving —
as though the night itself
had learned to breathe.
When your powerful language
When your powerful language describes functions like the tide going out, those functions take on a Cosmic scale. Like the greatest of Poets in all times and eras, you step up to declare why this small blue planet that orbits an insignificant star on the galactic edge is still, on the spiritual level, the center of the Cosmos. I believe the earth occupies a small part of the galactic backwater so that we can discover the grandeur that is hidden within it . . . as stated in Proverbs 25:2.
Starward-Led [in Chrismation, Januarius]
I’m honoured you read the
I’m honoured you read the tide that way.
For me, the smallest motions — a lantern swaying, the water drawing back — are already part of something vast. Perhaps that’s why they feel worth naming: they carry the same quiet grandeur as galaxies, only closer to hand.
I also love your thought that Earth’s ‘backwater’ position might be what allows us to notice such things. And yes — Proverbs 25:2 feels like the perfect companion to that idea: the hidden is a gift, and the search is its own kind of glory.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver
And you are appreciating
And you are appreciating re-naming those of us around you, I'm sure?
peace, pot, tequila shot
Jesus loves us, stoned or not
Perhaps… though I think of
Perhaps… though I think of it less as re‑naming and more as re‑seeing. The lantern, the tide, the fish — they were always themselves. I just hold them up to the light in a way that lets us notice something new. And if we recognise ourselves in there, well… maybe the poem recognised us first. After all, names are only shadows until the light shifts.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver