Without looking at the news,
tension is evident,
in people’s faces, their walk, their posture,
we can see that everywhere around us there is pain,
hopeless refuge, quiet withdrawal, seamless worry,
what happens along the sunlit coast,
when the sands are hot,
the ocean’s mist a salty flavor of passionate beauty.
There is an energy there,
waits for us all,
sometimes beckons the lonely while midnight
passes through the sky.
How can we always, not sometimes,
never just for today,
find ourselves sipping a tea, scotch, ice cold water,
while we bask in the ocean’s mystique.
What is out there beyond the inland refuge
our physicality must endure.
If I stand here idyllic and gaze upon water’s horizon long as I incline,
perhaps then walking toward reality might not appear in Wrath’s design.