The Lense

I pick up
the camera,
lens
capturing
this moment,
the way the green
blends into
the softness of your skin,
the way the water dips and ripples,
catching the shore and the movement of swans…

I look
through the frame and find the door
where realities meet,
statues whisper to me,
to each other as they gaze
upon the woman wrapped in green
and red-orange silk,
mystery slipping out,
allowing herself to be seen…

People gesture,
stop,
move on by wondering…

I stand
at the center of the labyrinth
eight ways before, beside, and behind me,
you catch the fringe on my scarf
and bring me back,
I lower my veil for you to record
a moment to remember the edge where land
meets sea,
where time speeds up and slows down,
where bride and groom kiss
and hope is born
into the palm of your hand…

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