She Never Stops
Before the L trains begin
pulsing from the base yard
at 3:30 AM
in New York City,
sets of waves are finding
their ends on smooth black rocks
in Hawaiian bays
only to be sucked back out
into ripples anew
perhaps bound for
San Francisco?
Before the first NPR program
whines to life
transmitting the heaviness
of the morning
into San Franciscan kitchens,
a humpback whale
releases its song into the Pacific
perhaps bound for
Alaska?
Before the whoooosh
of rubber on concrete
alerts the late risers
it’s rush hour in Anchorage,
a drop of dew rushes down
a mountain fold
delicately deepening its wrinkle
… if only we could be around
in a million years
to see the masterpiece
We are always with her,
she who never sleeps
or stops moving
or stops creating
She never stops.
Matt McDonald