The Blue Edge of Time

My eyes, my heart, are often drawn to a distant line,
Where I am told the future lives, as yet unknowable,
Indiscernible, unrequited, like an artist’s blank canvas.

Always though,
I am pulled back from the blue edge of time
Through waters pulsing with life,
Over rocks the ages have sculpted,
Across fragile wind-blown dunes,
To the eternal now –
This wild and holy moment in the sun.

Words and photograph (c) 2013 Mark Lloyd Richardson