Life begins, everlastingly, with light.
A cloud-green chaos, the creator’s tear,
that crystal deluge breaks to disappear.
Rich oil, soft ochre-black, becomes a height
of stone, to pierce, amid the wilderness,
our Virgin Mother’s deep azure and gold.
Her fingers, hesitant as blood, unfold
to bless the child above the last abyss.
Land’s End. Nanjizal Bay at low tide formed
a cratered Armageddon where the wrath
of castellated quartz and mica blazed
like God. But then I saw the granite arch
where tourmaline and haematite gashed blue,
through which, to carve the earth, the ocean stormed.
