She’s on the waves, crystal blue, as the sun
awakens behind her, black to velvet to red.
Every morning, before the world begins again,
she’s here on the waves. She says she touches God.
She’s been through hell. She’s spat in the Devil’s eye.
She’s seen the darkness. She’s also held an angel’s hand.
Out on the waves, as the world is still asleep and quiet,
she rides the waves. The peace before the world.
And the world is burning. And I feel a war is coming.
And I let it all get to me. The dark smothers the stars.
Can I be like her? Spit in The Devil’s eye? Hold an angel’s hand?
Because she can still touch God, despite all her pain.
The sky is a crystal blue, like the waves, as she comes ashore.
She smiles at me. We both got to face the world know,
but she has a light I disregard, in hate and in anger.
Maybe I as write these words for her, I can touch God, too.
A young woman surfs across the water, a child of the sun.
The crystal clear wave curling around her, the sky eternal.
Summer light and all things possible, all things so beautiful.
Young and free and without a care in this momentary paradise.
I dream of such perfection, empty but for the breath of life, of light.
Washed clean in pure waters and mind quiet and soul radiating.
I watch from shore, from a screen, dream of the return to Eden,
to the place where there are no thoughts but only light of the sun.
I wake as first light comes over the sea.
The blue waves black in red light.
The black being chased to blue.
Soon, the blue sky, the blue sea,
will be one, indistinguishable.
She wakes, and sits next to me.
Peace in sleeping under the sky
and by the sea, the crashing waves
that soothe, remind that there is
more than humans.
A war rages, the world is burning,
even as we find the peace of an
ancient, more wild goddess,
here under the sky, by the sea,
We hold hands, and when light comes
we will hit the tall glass waves,
ride them to paradise and to shore,
to that place where we are no longer
ourselves, but one with sky and sea.
And the world is burning, the blue
of sky and sea being turned black,
like the hearts of humans, the minds
of the pious. We are burning home.
We are burning ourselves.
A moment, one with sky and sea,
as the water takes us back to birth
our us and of all life on the verdant land.
One with sky and sea, me and her, becoming
one by fading into a goddesses heart.
And the world is burning.