I sometimes dream, when I am on the cusp
of waking, and sleeps warm embrace has
loosened, that I stand upon a cliff, overlooking
the vastness of the sea, and behind me is a plain,
stretching to forever, and above me the gulls wheel
in patterns and intricacies I had never before imagined,
and they call to me secrets gleaned from the wind, and the
clouds, and from the waves below. They tell me tales
and legends, and they speak of the lives of the fishes, and
the voices of the whales, and of the meanings in the skies.
And when I wake, and I am daunted by the troubles of the
day, I remember and am comforted, and journey through days
struggles, on the promise of a soft tonight, and of the calls of
the gulls, and the music of the sea.