Notes About The Poem
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SKY-BORN BALLERINA
Arcing in the blue,
the beach ball rose~
light as a whispered spell,
bright as the lifted tip
of a conductor’s wand
calling the morning awake.
It swirled above the yawning sands,
a sky-born ballerina
swollen proudly
with oceanic breath,
turning slow pirouettes
in the hush of early light.
Then, as if summoned
by some gentle, unseen command,
it drifted down
into my outstretched arms~
a small miracle
wrapped in peach-colored dawn.
In that tender glow,
I felt the world beyond
lean close enough to speak:
Be patient.
Wait.
All will become right.
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