Another Dawn

With low sun and homebound herons,
horizons prods divine art to stack
lilies in my throat recalling.....
a boat that bowed down to the boiling sea.

For a moment, the sea was a scene
of frenzy and screams and bubbling head-
all in frantic fray to cluctch breath
upon a bow to Saint Raphael,
silenced soon by bitter blast of waves.

Drifted ashore by blind belief,
I discerned the graves loss embedded
in mind the fervor the heart needs
for being bloodsucker to her deeds,

And the hurt heart itched by the blue
charmed of entwining arms behind shrub
on low sun with song of crickets
daedaled desire for another dawn
to impel fleshness before fall of night.

Author: Celedonia G. Aguilar