r2vyln3rdioj14u-rld0ska where mountains meet the sea: February 2012

From one island to another

there is nothing
to show there's land
across the sea.

When clouds convert to mist
that sits
on the sea's surface,
the mind relies on memory
to add the lines of islands,
the rise of distant hills.

When mist drifts and lifts,
the outlined islands,
shapes of distant hills
emerge like wraiths,
like shadows of themselves,
until sun scalpels through,
reveals each detail
against a blue so clear, the miles of ocean
seem to disappear
and I could walk
across the water.