aphrodite-84
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jul 3, 2007
- Messages
- 112
I am not sure what this falls under. I just wrote it. I thought it was kind of nice. Let me know if it's uninteresting. 
You say you are the ocean.
I can swim all the way through you and I can go deep.
If you are the ocean, pieces of me have been thrust up through your surface in volcanic bursts. The effect of tectonic plates sliding under each other. Opening the earths crust, releasing molten materials.
This will be an island. One day, somewhere.
If you look closely the waters seem to eat the land. Big, wet tongue lapping up the shores. We came here in search of shizen. The spontaneous, self-renewing, sacred natural world in which we are a part (apart?).
Before now, I have searched through you -seeking where holiness reveals itself- eying out the 'thin spots' where divinity seeps through as if a geological function: The molten mantle of the sacred (scared?) cutting through surfaces like an acetylene torch. Eruptions, inward powers spawn (Let this be my island).
Later, I am back on land. The children of tokyo are making paper boats, beautiful in colour, edges sharp as knives. The water, their playmate. I watch the ocean dance with the sunlight.
He looked at me as if to say 'ready to go'?
I cannot find the expression for 'I wasn't ready to stay'.
You say you are the ocean.
I can swim all the way through you and I can go deep.
If you are the ocean, pieces of me have been thrust up through your surface in volcanic bursts. The effect of tectonic plates sliding under each other. Opening the earths crust, releasing molten materials.
This will be an island. One day, somewhere.
If you look closely the waters seem to eat the land. Big, wet tongue lapping up the shores. We came here in search of shizen. The spontaneous, self-renewing, sacred natural world in which we are a part (apart?).
Before now, I have searched through you -seeking where holiness reveals itself- eying out the 'thin spots' where divinity seeps through as if a geological function: The molten mantle of the sacred (scared?) cutting through surfaces like an acetylene torch. Eruptions, inward powers spawn (Let this be my island).
Later, I am back on land. The children of tokyo are making paper boats, beautiful in colour, edges sharp as knives. The water, their playmate. I watch the ocean dance with the sunlight.
He looked at me as if to say 'ready to go'?
I cannot find the expression for 'I wasn't ready to stay'.
.