Hello fresh eternal ocean,
always singing with the glamour of motion,
have you missed my gypsy feet of lost potions?
I heard the bellow of your tremendous helloos
from the depths of Big Sur's incandescent soothes.

Sing back my childhood laughter
with tidal pools of collected truth,
reminding me I am still matter,
and will decay with your mortal proof.

Cliff edge moments continue to build
soulful homes in this growing energy field,
framed in my fingerprints still seeking old gills
in the murmur of pines and oaks sewing nature's twills

I am sitting on some California balcony
chanting praise in silence and cigarette smoke,
accepting my task to exalt the maddening dichotomy,
these cursive words love and dying,
inked into my bark of worn oak.