A loon is feeding out beyond the waves,
I think of light diffracting off to enter
Proteinaceous lenses to optic caves.
Somewhere behind the caves, my neurons fire,
Ion imbalance moving to my brain,
Where mystery bright images will sire,
And when I write, will give them birth again.
For some, to strip the sight to mere potential
Renders weak the power of the moment.
For me, the underlying is essential,
Beauty deeper for imagined current.
For all of nature’s beauty that is showing,
A deeper grandeur rises up from knowing.
Gale Rhodes
