In a land named for a growing celestial light,
it was earth itself that heaved upon it
the sudden shaking darkness.
The wasted land awakened a frightened ocean
that ran crying to its mother,
pushing people further out of reach
of their rising sun, never to see its light again.
Always the darkness can become darker,
and though fear shortens arms,
we must never fear to embrace
even the dusk when we may.
I wrote this poem two years ago for my friend, poet Heather Grace Stewart’s Poets for Tsunami Relief one-week blogzine of poetry on her website Where the Butterflies Go. That’s so Heather.