Sunrise: a poem

And life is this brief light / traveling to endless night.

Happy Sunday my lovely readers! I’ve decided to give you all a break from the longer essays this week—since last Sunday’s essay was VERY long indeed—and leave you with a poem. I wrote it last fall while reflecting on that past summer’s trip to Greece. In particular, I was inspired by the memory of going out to the black sand beach in Santorini early in the morning with my mother and seeing the sunrise. Suddenly the concept of “time” felt so concrete to me that I was totally startled. I hope you enjoy!

I recommend reading on desktop so the spacing doesn’t get messed up!

—

Santorini, June 2023

Sunrise

The world is blue at its beginning. Birth
is what we wait for, at the edge of earth.
     The vague waves lap the shore,
     swelled by an unseen oar

from where the sea and sky are blurred one blue,
a periwinkle, hazy stretch of hue,
     a bar of black collapsing
     on blacker sands. The waxing

tide is observed by empty boats; above,
the waning moon’s canoe (or wink, or dove)
     makes westward pilgrimage,
     and in the east, offstage,

the principal prepares his part. At first,
a single line is read, so well-rehearsed,
     well-timed, and flame on flame
     emerges into frame,

spreading flamingo tints. It is a lamp
raised up, or backwards tea bag, from the damp
     of waves steeping in sky
     to pink and rubify—

it is a pureness of intensity,
crowning the moment in simplicity,
     a golden coin, a portal
     ancient and elemental,

the simplest shape, and like a man bestowed
good fortune, rapid in its ascent. Its load
     of light is lifted higher—
     a sphere of suspended fire—

until hidden behind a dim and low
veiling of cloud. There is a parting now
     of sky from sea, the silver
     waving with rippling shiver,

the morning air a gradient of rose
to orange, clearish white, then blue that goes
     upwards and westwards. There
     the moon has fled the glare,

dissolved—its moonprint washed away. We turn
to breakfast, chores, news of the world, concern
     for all the humdrum things
     that daily living brings,

and soon the sun is thrust across the world
halfway, as though it had been faster hurled
     by gods who play at ball,
     a sudden, blazing call.

For this is time: the day made in a moment
quicker than what we think, dreamt and undreamt.
     And life is this brief light
     traveling to endless night.

—

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please like this post, leave a comment to let me know your thoughts, and subscribe if you haven’t already. I hope you are all having a wonderful summer so far!