Pulse: a poem on setting out

[ by Charles Cameron — thunder, lightning, wind, water, moon, thanks and praise ]

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Pulse

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Like a thunderbolt out of juicy nothingness

a chord

            strikes, as if

from the face before time itself, lightning:

                                                                nor

is there any measuring the impact a breeze

might ripple out across waters, each drop

containing,

                  constraining

its reflected ocean.

                              Live, then, your

lively life, be struck, dumb, gifted, wildly

giving – what else? – thanks

and praise. Not as flattering tongues praise,

                                but as one moon

surrenders herself, gone, crescent, whole

and shattered, across each and all

                              turbulent and calm waters.