This shore is waxen,
a golden slumber of eroded crust.
My toes slide into the warmth
of a million years and ruptures.
The sky is dotted with wandering
cumulo-nimbus travellers who
wend their way in front of the sun.
For brief moments they veil
the freedom of the moment
and mask my delight behind shades
of forboding.
But the sea pounds the shore
in an infinite tirade
and I stand still and let the
mood of this world, this moment
in a time that marches wash over me.
A cool cosmic wind that caresses
and cavorts a myriad path
of random and fleeting peace.
I am a rock in the swirling abyss
of a world of peace and bliss
with sorrowful undertones...

12/24/2003

Posted on 12/24/2003
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