"Sea of Dreams"

I was wind surfing on a chrome disc,
In and out of silver orange clouds,
in the sea of my desire.

A crescent moon peeks out behind clouds rushing across the sky.

Dead branches fall from reborn trees,
the scented wind whispers to me,
by and by,
"I'm alive!"

My chrome disc rushes from crest to crest,
down deep swells,
rocking to natures beat.

There on a rocky shore,
I see an ancient pagoda in Cambodia,
filled with arms for a war we already had,
a memorial to those that died teaching the ways,
an Indian mystic raved,
extravagantly,
enthusiastic teachings on being alive.

While chewing taro,
I contemplate the reality of the human condition,
my condition,
Are we headed for perdition?
I think not!

I kowtow to the grand creator in expression of deep respect,
for my totem,
the Gator,
keeps me strong,
as I train my consciousness to attain insight and tranquillity.

I catch a mammoth powerful cloudwave.
The Sea of Dreams rocks my chaotic beat,
as I,
breath life!

Back    Index   Next