Often it is the ocean itself
that speaks in its roiling voice
its thunderous tongue.
What it is saying
I have listened to for years,
as it crackles and whips,
or whispers in its silken tones.
Even now I am not sure of its message,
its assaults of thrill and boom
shattering the rocks
into flares of light.
Something about Mystery,
something about uncontainable
Love.
I am thinking, or trying to think, about all the
Imponderables for which we have
no answers, yet endless interest all the
Range of our lives...
Mystery, after all, is God’s other name...
But, but---
excuse me now, please; it’s morning, heavenly bright,
and my irrepressible heart begs me to hurry on
Into the next exquisite moment.