Yesterday’s Chalice

I trace the pathway

To an ancient palace

Lined with the shimmering waves

Of seaside glory.

Tumbling after one another

They race, beckoned

By yonder shore.

The highest tower

Of grey-worn fortress

The rosy blush

Of an early morrow

Of yesterday’s today.

I trace the walk

Of its smallest garden

I weave my way

Through the sprinkling

Of golden crown’s last flower

Tiny footprints of seagulls

Leading a wanderer astray

When crossing each other

In a mixed confusion

Of scrambled understanding

A maze of orderly disorder.

A snowy white sail lingers

Woven in wisps

Of cool, heavenly air

Alit by the brightest torch

Of sentinel’s caress

Held in the chalice

Of a half-forgotten world.

By Gina Marinello-Sweeney

(As appears in “I Thirst“)