Untitled rising and setting suns in still motion

..  
 
1st Horizon:  
Yang  
 
Hoary foam  
Pours in  
Churning crests  
Across the  
Dune  
Sea  
White shells  
Reside  
In red  
Sands  
 
The fisherman’s arm  
Arcs  
Back  
Then forward  
Pole following  
Line  
Dives  
Into waters  
 
Spring is gently  
Birthing in  
Warm morning  
Light  
The surf is  
Chill  
In winter’s  
Still  
Memory  
 
The waves  
Are not  
Moving  
Photons are traveling  
Across  
Charged  
Particles  
Recognition  
Is in motion        
 
A family forms a  
Square  
Gently  
Batting a volleyball  
Between them  
 
Fisherman’s  
Planted  
Pole  
Draws a vertical  
Line  
Across the  
Blue  
Horizon  
 
On roiling  
Seas  
Distant ships appear  
Stationary  
 
Another  
Trio  
Lounge on  
Beach  
Chairs  
Listening to  
Marley  
 
Rippling  
Banners trailing behind  
Seaplanes  
Seem  
To stand in  
Place  
It is neither  
Banner  
Nor  
Wind  
But  
Consciousness  
In motion  
 
A child gathers  
Wet sand  
Into a bucket  
Surprisingly  
Heavy for his  
Small arm  
Which drags  
Awkwardly  
Behind  
Dumped  
Sluggishly  
Upon his feet  
Which he  
Buries and  
Studies  
Curiously  
Perhaps wondering  
Where earth  
Ends  
And he  
Begins  
 
Fisherman pulls a  
Shining  
Fish  
From  
Shimmering  
Waters  
Wrestles the hook  
From its mouth  
And places it  
In a covered  
Pail  
 
I  
Observe in  
Lotus  
Try to see the  
Unseen  
Hear the  
Unheard  
 
I am infused with  
Breath and  
Light  
 
Shadows of a  
Wind  
Blown  
Pennant  
Fall  
Over me  
 
An infant  
Tugs  
With irritation  
At a bright  
White  
Bonnet  
Tied to  
Shade her  
Tender  
Flesh  
Wrapped  
In mother’s arms  
 
The laughing of seagulls  
Is not  
Diminished  
As a fish  
Starved of  
Breath and  
Light  
Thrashes and  
Falls  
Still  
 
All  
I  
See  
Is sacred  
Geometry  
And amidst  
Everything  
We  
Are the true  
Scene  
 
And all I see  
Is the sun  
Rising  
In still motion  
 
..  
 
2nd Horizon:  
Yin  
 
Emcee takes the stage  
As the evening’s open mic  
Commences  
In rounds of  
Silence  
Pause and  
Applause  
 
Couple of  
Poetry pimps  
Likely working the  
Local  
Circuit  
Recite with  
Practiced  
Guile  
Eyes glide  
Across those  
Gathered  
Worshipping their  
Reflection  
 
Couple of awkward  
Bookish types  
Reading  
Concisely penned  
Lines  
From printed  
Sheets  
Without meter or  
Evoking  
Genuine  
Feeling  
 
Edgy kid  
Vents the  
Stigma surrounding  
Homosexuality  
With pain’s  
Passion  
Moves me  
 
Close my eyes  
Soak in the  
Dark  
Which  
Swells  
In the open  
Air  
 
Profaned  
Prophets  
Perch  
Upon  
Each  
Shoulder  
 
One speaks of the  
Madness  
Of pain  
The other of its  
Ecstasy  
And though  
These  
Are the same  
Message  
Gathered  
Upon sheaves  
Are held in  
Divisive  
Contention  
 
And the spirit  
Is lost  
 
My name is called  
I recite  
Untitled pointing to nothing  
From memory  
Whispering  
Each  
Other line  
And flow somewhere  
Between  
With emotive, peaceful  
Measure  
 
The evening continues  
A young lady of  
Dusky hue  
Reads from  
Memory  
Eyes closed  
Beatifically  
In a  
Lovely  
Oval face  
And all I see  
Is the sun  
Setting  
In still motion  
 
And all I hear is holy  
 
..