The Divide

The sea was not salt the first tide…
was man born to sorrow that first day?
The moon—a pale beacon across the Divide,
the brighter for longing, an object denied—
the tug at his heart’s pink, bourgeoning clay?

The sea was not salt the first tide…
but grew bitter, bitter—man’s torrents supplied.
The bride of their longing—forever astray,
her shield a cold beacon across the Divide,
flashing pale signals: Decide. Decide.
Choose me, or His Brightness, I will not stay.

The sea was not salt the first tide…
imploring her, ebbing: Abide, abide.
The silver fish flash there, the manatees gray.
The moon, a pale beacon across the Divide,
has taught us to seek Love’s concealed side:
the dark face of longing, the poets say.

The sea was not salt the first tide . . .
the moon a pale beacon across the Divide.

 





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Michael R. Burch is the editor of The HyperTexts. He has three Pushcart nominations and his poetry has been translated into Italian, Farsi, Russian and Gjuha Shqipe. His work has appeared over 700 times in publications such as The Chariton Review, The Chimaera, Light Quarterly, The Lyric, The New Formalist, Poet Lore and
Writer’s Digest—The Year’s Best Writing
.