Anastasia Island

THE beginning of all man is fish;
Deep among the shadows of the sea,
Where silence and the sea ferns
Wave in timeless afternoon.
High above, from mountain’s peak to peak
And island’s shore to island’s shore,
Fishes Hit and soar in fair weather,
And in foul like swallows skim
The ponds of darkness on the ocean’s floor.
Distant faces that appear in dreams are there,
Faces yet unborn, and those who foundered
On the shoals or cast themselves
Upon the rocks of their despair
And thus return to the
Original wish.