On a Northern Shore
The shining neck creates a quivering song. The loon becomes a sound.
Its throat shimmers above the lake, and now the tune becomes a sound.
The lake takes the blankness, night’s blackness, and all sound is dissolved.
Echoes resound off water, up, and the round moon becomes a sound.
What of those old elegiac notes of dawn’s despair? They disappear.
What of desire? With the time to attune, it too becomes a sound.
Sunset once more and from a silent throat comes something that just is,
releasing the long day; that everlasting boon becomes a sound
washing away the light, the water, darkness, and desire.
Wait, pilgrim on the silent shore, listening soon becomes a sound.
Brian Palmer is inspired by the idea that everything lies in beauty along a continuum of emergence and decay and at any given moment has the capacity to inspire. Recently, he’s been published at The Ekphrastic Review, in Small Farmer’s Journal, and The Light Ekphrastic.