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.