It's Still Life

The Architecture of a Moment

Notes: Rooted in the oldest English tradition, Anglo-Saxon accentual verse follows the rhythm of breath and heartbeat rather than syllable or rhyme, where meaning is carried by cadence, image, and pause.

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The Architecture of a Principle

Bare feet steady as stones in sand;
waves fold like forgotten prayers.
Here, time’s no arrow,
but the skin of eternity.

Each tide a shore
kissed and left,
a rhythm
of return.

You are the sea, I tell him,
and the sea is you,
woven deep
in the warp of time.

The shore, the same,
but the tide new water.
The lesson, the same,
but the soul grown wiser.

The love unchanged,
only deeper.

We stole the moment for ourselves:
the hush of salt and swell,
an ancient lullaby
with no beginning to betray,
no end to mourn

only the world’s
quiet, endless yes.

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Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge, prompt: principle. Poems/prose and some images are ©Misky 2006-2025.