Prayers at the shoreline to distant gods,
mantras and chants for mystery maker.
Dark matter ripples gently move her hair.
Evening storm retreats, trailing shocks strike
as parting clouds evaporate like dried tears
she cried once, for life’s loves, lives lost,
while tidal waves yawn on black horizon,
swallowing all with a smacking crash,
closing in upon her beach this night
until in dark consuming light she sees
tides of stars at her bare feet, collecting
along moondust sand with each lick of waves.
In her graceful aging youth, never to be old,
she smiles — the stars gathered in her palms
chime as diamonds might in a gathered dress
that flows along winds of time — which pauses.
One dainty swirl and scattered again, they fly…
in the distance, a shooting star aims for her heart.
~ Emily C.