Etna’s smoking and the sky’s on fire,
province of the lord of light.
First fierce color, then sweet heat,
the ready rise of blinding white.
What beauty rules the westing day?
What future bodes so broad and blue?
Thick night thins and wisps away
and lends these hours to me and you.
So, love, what shall we do with it—
the pearl that’s placed in our own hands
plucked from some dark oyster bed,
palmed miracle of sea and sand.
The round perfection of the thing
enough to make the sun god sing.
From Lovers’ Almanac (Wipf & Stock, 2015)