satellites

(for my aunt and her favorite song)

you pass the shore by like a wave untamed
a flower of grace daring to exist
when morning breaks with bitter city smoke
and the noise of raging newspapers

on the windowsill the sea of iris blooms
from trembling echoes of a green sanctum
fragile and shadowed yet soft

its dewdrops are not the demise
of your clouds in harbored satin

where white nights approach
slow
slow
they gently form the waters of your hope

and such glass wings crumble
to carry meadow truths
across the frozen bridges
home

to rush the wild gulls of spring
into stargates on the western cape

as nothing moves your wandering smile inside
when you gather borealis petals
in the quiet of your lighthouse shrine

tenderness
is the only sky
worth believing

tenderness
is the only reality
worth giving

.
.
.
……………………………
sinun kuu, oot rakas

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