I was a man and I was the island turning toward night
Rolling away from the sun
Between the green and blue of grass and sea
Over a long finger of black sand
Irregular formations descended, hundreds of them
squadron on squadron
An evening wind swayed the cosmos.
Over the high face of Halla Mountain
One small aqua-grey cloud let fall
a violet veil
Beauty is a gift of forgotten gods.
Wonder will not translate into words–
I was the island as I am a man, miraculous
as the risen moon, a common butterfly in a typhoon.
Hallasan, S. Korea (active)