Sunday, June 21, 2015

Summer Solstice


SUMMER SOLSTICE
June 21, 2011

Early today, the sun leaps brilliantly over the horizon, taking a long, spellbound jump, spinning in slow motion his legs and arms, gliding, a bird of prey.

Rising light casts drawn-out shadows running up and down hills and dales. Atop a summit warming rays outspread.

Colors explode, life bursting in dread of death. Stunning dyes ink the sky, veins and washes.

Bright droplets of flowers splash across a palette of meadows. Floating trees at their base join to luminous shades.

Silver rivers transmute into gold. Forest regiments guard eyes hiding beneath shadowy green canopies, shading hands.

Fulsome clouds tumble, hay rolls in a royal blue field. The wind, freshly laving, puffs memories, ardent.

The longest day is glorious, a shining bracelet of hours—agate streaked orange and blue at dawn, dazzling quartz at noon, orange sapphire at dusk. Night fastens the end with a snap.

Originally published in New Asian Writing (May 7, 2015) at http://www.new-asian-writing.com/summer-solstice-by-gonzalinho-da-costa/



Summer Solstice Sunrise over Stonehenge (June 21, 2005) by Andrew Dunn

2 comments:

  1. Photo link:

    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Summer_Solstice_Sunrise_over_Stonehenge_2005.jpg

    Gonzalinho

    ReplyDelete
  2. Short version of this poem, first two stanzas edited:

    SUMMER SOLSTICE
    June 21, 2011

    Early today, the sun leaps over the horizon, legs and arms spinning, slow motion, gliding, a bird of prey.

    Rising light casts elongated shadows running up, down hills and dales. Atop a summit warming rays outspread.

    Colors explode, life bursting in dread of death. Stunning dyes ink the sky, veins and washes.

    Bright droplets of flowers splash across a palette of meadows. Floating trees at their base join to luminous shades.

    Silver rivers transmute into gold. Forest regiments guard eyes hiding beneath shadowy green canopies, shading hands.

    Fulsome clouds tumble, hay rolls in a royal blue field. The wind, freshly laving, puffs memories, ardent.

    The longest day is glorious, a shining bracelet of hours—agate streaked orange and blue at dawn, dazzling quartz at noon, orange sapphire at dusk. Night fastens the end with a snap.

    Gonzalinho

    ReplyDelete