June

There must be times,
The ocean said,
When we are all
Variously
And inconceivably
Absolutely complete.
Hopeful in our unaccomplished everydays;
Haven’t we met with the touch of eternity?
Brushed by the hand of what is timeless and inhuman?
When the fullness of our potential
Becomes realized through
The correspondence of another
Being of tangible
Or intangible
Importance.
We would know it,
Said the ocean,
As if she were falling asleep
(But the ocean never sleeps),
If we knew how to linger a little better,
Knew how to see the other being
Sharing our moment of absolute certainty
Before we relinquished ourselves once more
To the lapping tongues of intransigence,
To the peaceful hymn of defeat.

6/12/15

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