From Shadow to Shore
The moon’s eye catches
shadowed woods,
Sharp ridges of the mountain,
sheer rock faces,
rivers leaping restless from their beds,
scattering spray like shattered glass.
The water winds through valleys,
disappearing into forests
where scholars wander alone,
souls in search of thought,
losing themselves
in the beauty of the wild.
emerging at last from the night’s dark,
before the vast open ocean,
wide and glittering, at rest.
The waves shimmering silver,
sliding among rocky crags,
murmuring softly.
The sands gleam pearl-white,
and the rising sun
pours golden across the sky,
It’s bright March just begun.
Where Wilds are Home
The moon’s keen eye on woodlands fall,
On jagged cliffs, sheer mountain walls;
While rivers leap from rocky beds,
Their spray, like shattered crystal, spreads.
Through winding vales the waters go,
To forest depths where shadows slow,
And souls in search of wisdom roam,
Yet lose themselves, for wilds are home.
At last, they leave the night behind,
The boundless ocean before them shines;
Its silver waves through crags are cast,
Soft murmurs on the shoreline last.
The sand gleams pale with pearly light,
The sun ascends to crown the height;
It spills its gold across the skies,
And day’s bright march begins to rise.
WoPoLi 
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