The Atlantic Ocean and I sigh
in unison against the shoreline
of Amagansett Beach
and as she inhales;
she drags the land above below,
one grain of sand at a time.

In a few generations
she will have devoured this entire beach,
eventually the whole Island
and with it the multi-million dollar estates
which decorate its topology
like an effigy to human vanity.

I would say never before in history
has there been so few with so much
who have done so little
but that would denote
some kind of significance
and they are hardly worth noting.

you, me and we.
simply, this is the source.
no visions needed, nor prophesy.
no mystical experience will be more clear
than perspective alone.

she, he and we.
simply. she receives, nurtures, gives.
he watches and guides, lives
to share seed, gives his light.
this is merely from in sight.
perspective, long history.
a single lifetime just too short,

so I repeat until I see, and this time
it is clear. I learn to trust my self.
she is tuned to the vibrational harmony.
she can see.

I have no other words to write,
I know my truth, the world loses interest.
the illusions wane in attraction,
heard mentality weakening, the attempts fleeting.
and I can just thank God.
the source of the trinity, the power of the flame.
the truth all really will claim,
the One.

we do not believe the confessions
before our faces,
the admittance of the travesties.
we choose to see things how
it is constructed to be seen.
there is always the choice,

I think its the missing rituals
that we forgot. spell casted,
fog rot. rolling in on all the mediums
that come from system, all of them.
so we're a little bit bombarded.

the muse of the creators, the power,
the originator, She, is to be trusted.
misguided centuries
have turned the heads disgusted
at the miracles of  their times,
witnessing the feminine spirit of the spine
birth a child, or raise a tribe.

She and her daughters are the ones
who know alone,
that moment, that human form
pushes out of your core,
emerges from the dark,
the songs of spirit circling the babe,
caressing the body for the trek.

alone, that moment. you have no one.
there is no option, it is you and God
gracing the entrance of new life.
portals being used so frequently
we call it normal…

we cut wombs, screaming
mama cannot open, (as her entire system shuts down from stress)
woman robbed of her moment alone,
her moment to know,
to remember her home,
the submitting to faith alone
that she is alive!
(pitocin has the exact same effect,)

robbed of birth, the birthing mother
weeps for the gut wrenching, stomach hurdling
pain to cease, the pain of creation.
the necessary absorption for mother
to mother, to heal her children, her nation.

in that moment alone she learns who she is …

with that moment she becomes mother,
her ritual as a creator.
woman finds her way there regardless,
though these moments are the ones
God created to witness self,
to hear the music of movement,
to live in the creative destruction,
as one.

some will tell the story as there are many sides
there is only one.

imagine the misery 
that could be released

if the bodies that

already depend on her

structure

could freely invite her

into their time.


That would be a rhyme

of reparations size.
a rhyme of freedom chimes.
just to be with her on the land.
submerged in her awareness,
healing of the nations confirmed.

She grows best where the sun shines long

and strong

where the air is hot

mosquitos have agendas

and time is just different

the sun shines long 
and strong

and she grows tall and wide

naturally 
using the nutrients of the Earth

to co-create with herself

a new generation called

by so many.


In these places

the bodies are protected
 with ample vitamin D

perfection of the dream

the hair spirals to a tight coil

assisting with heat release

these bodies

with their recognizable
 similarities to me,
to us all.


The ocean is so blue,
in some of these places,

even I jump in.


She grows best when her power is understood

the intimacy of her relationship

with all who are open.

She is so strong.

Manifestations be like that though…

her ability to totally support her community,

while also accepting from the network

is awe-inspiring.

Her lineage is so cooperative

its probably the first real jealousy

I've felt in a few days.


To be able to interact with

You

through touch or words or color

and instantly understand
your needs.

And then to be able to satisfy even one of them?!


Man the brain leaves much to ask for.


She was the first one that talked to me.

She was screaming

she was being eaten

I thought I was just dreaming.

I wasn't.


The concrete my feet grew on

was too cold to understand

(though I'm sure it too has 
something to say…)

so the translation is a bit jumbled.

And uncomfortable
…am I just crazy??

well, yes, of course,
I talk to myself all day long...