The storm moved slowly eastwards,

lighting etched within my eye.

Waves and wind slowly abated,

leaving spume upon the sand.

 

Sun shafts, like a child’s painting,

found a fissure in the clouds;

sending rays to kindle raindrops,

softly falling from the sky.

 

Now a rainbow, then a second,

standing one legged on the reef;

where fish friends dance the currents,

sluicing through the rocks’ sharp teeth.

 

There they shimmer, in their brilliance;

mirrors of the rainbow’s hues.

Where they mouth a quiet question.

“Who are you who ventures here?”

 

 

David Garlick, Puerto Vallarta, January, 1997