Sunlight Whispering
Sunlight Whispering
Early Sunday morning;
nature rattling at the front door!
I accept the invitation to bond,
stepping out with nothing more in tow
than an upturned collar
and a theatrical imagination.
The morning’s ground is well-baked pastry,
crusted with a shiver of winter;
sunlight whispering across the ground
all sharp colour and playfulness.
So I stride out, church bells skipping alongside
with light skating off in front of me.
Soon I am within reach of the beach;
my sandy sanctuary,
but nature is in a roguish mood,
its light fluctuating;
its moods shifting;
gloss turning to flat matt.
The sea offers up a cold, blue arm
encouraging me into watery depths
while the sky, heavy in thought, reclines
on a grey leather-weathered armchair.
Behind, peeking through clouded curtains
a new season waits to spring into action.
Ian Souter
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