the black thunderbolt of the sea,
a heavenly shadow, a talisman
of horizons that shimmer and blaze between
dreaming waves and winds of memory;
from angels to lips of drowning men
he carries kisses, and eerie blues and greens
of Atlantis play on his wings,
with the vapors of starry things.
Between the sea and sky, people move as well,
but build with rougher stuff, and never know
the palace built of island clouds,
its swirling turrets flamed with bright pastels;
nor do they see the rainbow groves,
below the sorcerous waves,
on hills with coral brows.
And am I not one of them? And don’t I shy
as well to sail the storms across the sky?
And in the sea I take a weightless death
before I’ve shared the mermaid’s saving breath.
Ah, Cormorant, fly us from the streets
of cities built of certainty
to where the dragon and the kraken meet,
and kings bow down to the majesty
of your spreading wings enclosing space;
where from your beak of mystery,
in streams the constellations race.
About Me: I’m an MG and YA fantasy writer and have just completed my second novel, a YA gothic horror, Endzela the Wanderer. When not writing, I enjoy traveling with my wife and poring over quaint and curious volumes of forgotten lore.
Follow me on Twitter @ChiangMcCarthy