He writes about birds flying over the marsh looking for prey
A broad wing hawk soaring near the tiny airport
that sits high in the middle of the island
It is a divine messenger, you are protected
Northern sea fowl diving in chilled waves
Seals resting on rocks; a pure sense of nature, God and love
He laughs and says it is too early for God’s children to be awake;
but if you want to see the sunrise…
Leaving it there, kind of hanging in mid-air…sunrise
The carpenter, the artist, poet; he is one of the chosen
He doesn’t walk on water, he lives on it and breathes it in
– mixed bag of air and sea
Once he told me not to fear snakes after I read one of his stories
– we exchange on and off now and then
I wonder how his hands would feel if they didn’t always
have paint and soil on them; love of his work and faith
exudes from every pore so it wouldn’t really matter would it…
He can recite parts of Kipling with his eyes closed knowing…if…if

My heart walks alone, island bound and peace wraps around me
twirls and dances weaving a blanket of comfort;
more than one could ever know
Maybe my destiny has always been in plain sight
and not until near end has it become clear and doable

©2021 TrilbyYates