Smile

I shall walk on that shoreline
until I become a dot, and there,
crushed between sky and sand 
submit to the horizontal line

I shall lie flat on my back
A spread-eagled Universal Man 
with sea shells for eyes.
and for ear plugs; the howling wind

I shall hug the earth with my back, let the pull 
of the spinning globe erase gigabytes of you 
and with closed eyes replace them
with mysteries from below the tide

I shall pluck from the ancient silt,
rich hued bottles, alchemies of detachment,
then clean and align my new satellites,
a compass of seven North

And your smile shall come again.
Its radiance shall melt my compass,
burn all of my paths, 
my unwritten maps.

With thanks to G. Ó Domhnaill for permission to share.