Kelp Sonata

image by Alex Shapiro

Kelp Sonata

I woke up this morning,
opened my eyes, and it struck me:
The first thing I see every day from my pillow,
is in constant motion.
Okay, after I put my glasses on.

These hypnotic, undulating kelp beds
probably help to keep me
in some sort of trance state,
as I make the transition from sleep
to a functional level of consciousness.
Or more accurately, as I attempt
not to cross that cerebral threshold
while I throw on old jeans, make my coffee,
and ponder the creative work
I’d like to accomplish in the coming hours.
Work that relies upon inspiration
which ebbs and floods
just as the tide nudges these plants.
And upon initiative
that must always flood, regardless.

Hey, deadlines wait for no deadbeat composers.
I gaze out the kitchen window
at the day’s possibilities,
watching a Great Blue Heron balance awkwardly
on its skinny legs as the current shifts
the bull kelp on which he’s gingerly perched.
Life is unpredictable.


Alex Shapiro

Posted as prose over on her site Notes From the Kelp