Pale sand shifted beneath my feet,
blank clouds surrounding.
I ran along the Ocean's edge
into formlessness and emptiness.
The Spirit of the Creator
hovered over the waters of the deep.
I ran through the soft shadows
of Seurat’s hazy conte drawings.
Mysterious and luminous, without a single line.
I ran through the gentle woozy melodies of a
Sigur Ros song. A slow paced voice,
undulating Latin tones.
When I got tired I stopped running,
and faced my friend the Sea.
I shed my outer layer of clothing,
and waded out, with the fog swirling at my back.
I washed the charcoal from beneath my fingernails
and thought about the beginning of time:
how the formless void of the deep
was divided into heaven and earth.
Now, the fog at my torso blurs that divide.
Water and sky and heaven intermingle at my fingertips.
I stand still in the middle of the Ocean.
It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
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