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Poem

Into the oceans eye of weather storm, my thoughts drown,
stumbling each, upon each other’s trailing synapse falling;
and I admit occasional trip to somehow set them down;
a forceful fitful leisure unbeknown.
A silent sound at times to overwhelm and sit beside me
in this madness moment, baffled.
Stuffed and stuffing to overflow my good neighbors air
portioning me a couplet or two to share.
And I shall drink til drunk and think til thunk 
and when tis done will mortify no more.
The blasphemed eye removed to backward stare
as I shall know my counterpart with part of every hair.
For I am the mirror of my soul and the countenance contained
in every star; beads of every slow collected jar. 
The stones upon the shore all bear my name.
I am the air between each tongue of flame
and I am the flame between each draft of air.
I feel such grounded freedom as my soul alights to soar.
See with inward eye the knowing pearl to pour
Outward stretch my own return.
No boundaries must I learn.
For every tear the ocean’s cry, I think to pause
for do we not in all our wonder, 
All our haste and pristine beauty;
Seek outward all effect with inward cause.
I kiss the tears the ocean cries to salt the wounds
of my goodbyes and hesitate to breathe one breath
for all the singled glories passing, as do I, in death.

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