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Motherlovin' Poem

To be taken by the natural beauty of this place 

Is to be accepted into a guild of gods. 

Philosophers. Stones rounded in the surf 

In service to our evolution. 

Thus is one of our favorite places to process. 

To just be still. Feel. Center. Self. 

Open mine eyes and behold what it is to be held. 

The earth swells reflexively with every vista. 

Her vanity is in our bones. 

Her terrain insane. Each curve a carving. 

The careful hand of an elemental sculptor.

She wears her scars like the sterling stars that made them. 

Humbled in submission to the force of her own gravity 

Blood boiling in the deep beneath. 

This is a good kind of stress. 

Her cracks exposed provide pathways for the faithful 

We forget to let go. When at last we have 

A moment to hold it 

Observe not in efforts to control or 

Fold it into a box

The trade winds do not fit in your phone 

She has known how lonely the throne is 

How evolution has rendered us desensitized. 

Atlantean fantasies of seas like sky’s

Rising tides changing the flow of rivers. 

The most beautiful bodies of water 

are the ones that heal (oshun)

I feel the time to explore the abyss 

Has come. Shine light that we might 

Photosynthesize our demons into air. 

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