each day the sun slits the throat of its former self

Ashley Sniffen

each day the sun slits 
the throat of its former self
and rises in its blood

each beginning 
represents a circle
a memory leads 
to a sea of possibilities
a pier is made of rock 
a tree of exile
i yearn for the horizon

on a thread of light
i proceed towards 
this place that is you
and what was begins again

a star dances on the sky 
that is my forehead
the bird within us is reborn 
from the nest of our soul
your word is yours mine is my own

you return to the place that I am
and the poem begins to write itself

i see your face and 
the shadow on your face
like a poem your suffering is shared
we share the grief of a withering tree
too brief and at the mercy of the seasons
of the smiles and of the rifts of the earth
of men’s misfortunes of women’s prayers

with our wishes a moment takes 
its dazzled form
time fades like a landscape
we live the two halves of our lives
as if on a journey we perhaps remember
the name of islands of birds of ports
of the white wake of boats of cities of beings
of the cycle of arrivals and of departures

and we fall in love with the night
because each night celebrates 
a dream’s wedding
and we fall in love with the day
because life begins with each day