In the depths of a city, a culture sleeps, the ocean drops down on us like: winter rains.

We are buried in water the same as you, only the sun still shines inside this bubble you call a sea.

I blow thoughts to you of brotherhood, a thousand commands from my lips, a dandelion head gone gray with age, the wise stars float to tell you secrets.

This connection surpasses all of Newton's laws, secret billiard balls and mechanical clocks.
There are threads that tie to threads; all of this in front of me is fluid.

Knowing that you are alive my tribe flourishes, the ancient one that lives in our hearts.

All hearts beat as one in this moment we remember our embryo.

I beat the drum of my keyboard in the hopes that these waves will reach you; they will hit your skin as sound tides lapping against the dense night.

With my current comes inspiration, a long lost call to remind you that all of us threads that weave the tapestry shut, a secret life, a winking eye.

Oh this great love surrounds the water cycles harmony plays,
among the fallen trees, among the golden orbs. Heaven is no longer a secret, our eyes are wide awake, and the rain-ocean-sun has washed away the tattered lives of yesterday and now is singing lullaby a fallen snowflake I will run as sure as tornadoes come down hard and fly emotional weather and paths they walk with broken canes for trees the sum.

I hope that if I slip, my brothers will call me back, I hope that if I fall, gravity that dear sister of pressure will reverse her curse and I too will dive dive into the vast spaciousness of our earthen mother's

Blue

Watery

Prayer.

Or float as I dream,

and bounce upon her electromagnetic jeweled body...