Michael Zadell

Interstitial

First light ignites the placid air
of a vaulted darkness
blown wide open

and from that arc
of sky in disrepair
the radiance of morning

rages
out of a spreading glare
of derelict clarity

and what cannot be penetrated
is shoved aside
to the margins

where our spirits
spend our days
already vindicated

wrapped in shadowed weather
leaning into our lives
like water

nudging us past those streams
that forever lead us toward
but never really get us here

to a reef of the heart’s own making
on an
interstitial ocean

awaiting our return to ourselves
until the interrupted night resumes
like a fever

finally broken.

{Michael Zadell}