We are a very small species interlacing through a tiny sector of time and nature.
~ Everything is connected.
If you do not find the mellow in the word happy, in the so called present, you might never find it.
Look for a bridge and cross it!
When you have to stand against the wind, stand tall, but always bend from the force of a typhoon.
Dreams are color lightning, ripened glass and solar storms you should always write down or sketch.
“Books are friends for a sandy foxtrot.”
(Réplique sous la direction de Optivion)
circa 1914 or 2014?
Observe and recharge, that is part of connecting.
She looked over the waves
For fish at their quiet dance.
Crustaceans and crayfish in a tango.
Moving their tales and claws,
Swoosh, swoon, to music,
But below the crayfish routine
Comes a dolphin with a smile
The Lobsters and scallops head down.
Aimless and solemn, he springs.
~The Best thing when you are near the water is to sketch.
Strange Love, indeed.
I have heard the mermaids calling mostly on cold winter days
When you swim in to the current and cast your net in to their nest.
Gently breathing underwater looking for lost treasure chests
Glaring at Atlantis’s warning through Poseidon’s mighty breath.
Old reactors gushing fire as silent dolphins wept
Remembering all the crimson pirates who fell over stormy decks.
Too deep for modern fisherman, sonar scans or GPS
For only sailors from The last age knew their uncanny dwelling place.
Click for Free Mp3 Download here: MTV/OPTIVION
You can always find peace, under the sea.
The Ghoulie Pod is a Submersible Spaceship.
We swim upon the bounding
Inside the blue leviathan
Heard the empty liquid crashing
Salutations to the sand
Sleepy Rolling vast!
Smooth the surface when the moon naps
“Splasharamabuckling!” Harmony of a storm
“Long curves on your departures!
“The birds moon-dance on your pebbles,
The fish throttle on your hands
Dolphin’s hoods and shark on hop hip,
platinum sea shells by the “Shoresplasharabuckling!”
“Come swift Jones”
Open, listen with sunny rains!
Briny salt drifts; the calm seven
And shanty, shim and shanty!
The Traveler’s pause
Howl of purple rocks by a sunset song together calling a medley of waves.
~The ambiance of silent stones washing over my rest.
Behold the short whispers sleepy inside the quiet of the ship,
and dreams blend the moment with a serenade of new points.
It is the short view of a violet moon rising towards my helm. Arms heavy, gaze steady.