An illusion of motionlessness
Wingtips silently quivering
Master of wind and gravity.
A stray ray

“Can you tell me what God made?”, he says
“And can you tell me what he didn’t make?”, he

When he says OK after an eternal succession of questions
Remarkable in inanity, apparently going

Apprehension, excitement.
The rolling waves
Threaten to overwhelm us.
The plaques on walls,

The island marks our time in years
As we walk the road,
Battling quietly our renegade thoughts

To see what’s there is the seer’s gift
To see what’s there and not the snare
Of wishing and