I Listen For You

I listen for you from this shore
where my feet are lapped
by the ceaseless movement
of the waves as I stare
into the silvery expanse
that disappears
into a question mark
along the mists of the horizon.

For beyond that horizon
is an island
a tiny island
far from the eyes of humankind
where the heart is alone
where the soul drinks
from the spring of solitude

where beneath the touch
of the orange sun
distanced in the background
of the white-blue sky

I take the cup of longing to my lips
and am not consoled
by the sympathies and illusions
offered by time.

The dove nestles
in the arms of the Tree of Life
hidden from the falcon that glides forth
from the cliffs of recollection

to soar upon the breeze
which echoes your presence
far and ever near
across the silver caps of the waves
across the golden brown of the shore

where I stand and gaze the horizon
that disappears
into a question mark
that forever returns to you.