A sunrise crosses across the ocean,
casts golden mirrors of reflections in
endless waves stretching till they have no end.
Building white force, rushing up towards the shore,
they rear their heads to crash such a display:
the sea’s voice screams at waiting, silent sands.
You know, I waited up all the past night,
needing a glimpse, a peak at true beauty,
and now that day has finally arrived,
my soul is left feeling unsatisfied.

A small clearing lives inside this forest;
one where light sheds shadows of dancing leaves.
There’s peace, protection as my body sits,
reclining, resting on these fallen trees.
Missing the branches crackling underfoot
as I walked here, silent, I contemplate.
Staring at such nature as surrounds me,
I realize all this hides beauty’s face.
It’s the world itself that distracts my mind.
Bodies keep me from what my heart can find.

And then, upon a summer, Southern night,
while I sat there amid the thickening dew,
looking across the darkening of the world
(the violining crickets start anew –
so tired, their tugging tunes upon my soul),
I felt myself beginning to lose my grasp
upon this slowly fading illusion.
My mind fought on harder, trying to clasp
this world that I, yet barely, blearily,
continued contemplating dreamily.

And there, inside a corner of my mind,
beneath shores of reality, a place
only my heart could ever hope to find,
I saw a dreaming halo round your face.
My mind had searched for years to see this sight,
to see beauty so bright it is the sun.
But I have always turned from blinding light
to see the night. In darkness, you won.
Somehow, somewhere, you pulled my soul from me
to see what I could never see before.
What is the truest beauty man can see?
It’s only that blinding forever more.
And you are all that I will ever see
for it is your beauty that blinded me.

From Michael Anthony Adams, Jr.’s poetry collection, At the Side of the Road, available here.