Staring out into true mystic blue…
the only description I can find inside to contemplate such hue
of a substance that bore life as womb and maker to all our being
O viscous dream world that demands of us so much more than seeing.
being careful for what is wishd for, hopeful for what I feel
life drifts past effervescent with a feeling, has me reeling, that the visage and its elements alive, is something more than simply real.
could this veil beyond the air portend to life ever rended?
where depths once fathomed now explored, dispel myths yet to have been invented?
Much mana springs from that splashing mass of transcendent energy traveling the world as waves.
Much feeling flows and ebbs as does the sentiments at graves.
Staring out beneath the breakers to see what may come by, stifling baited breath on luscious dreams in miracle laden pools
Hope has its harlots way, in the hearts of sailors, fishermen and fools.