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    Is it the Kingfisher? by Marjorie Evasco

    This is how I desire god on this island
    with you today: basic and blue
    as the sea that softens our feet with salt
    and brings the living wave to our mouths

    playing with sounds of a primary language.
    “God is blue,” sang the poet Juan Ramon Jimenez,
    drunk with desiring, his hair, eyebrows,
    eyelashes turned blue as the kingfisher’s wings.

    It is this bird that greets us as we come
    round the eastern bend of this island;
    tells us the hairbreadth boundary between us
    is transient in the air, permeable to the blue

    of tropic skies and mountain gentian.
    Where we sit on this rock covered with seaweeds,
    I suddenly feel the blueness embrace us,
    this rock, this island, this changed air,

    the distance between us and the Self
    we have longed to be. A bolt of burning blue
    lights in my brain, gives the answer
    we’ve pursued this whole day:

    seawaves sing it, the kingfisher flies in it,
    this island is rooted in it. Desiring
    God is transparent blue – the color
    which makes our souls visible.

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