Us within a carousel of swimmers and joggers of low surf castle builders of gulls and lost kelp of sky and sand and ocean and of all their speeches— even then sometimes it’s just Us
th’ ancients spoke of life outside the cave— when sounds were emit’d from lips till lips became fingertips and fingertips thoughts— when emojis became the light in darkness and darkness made us fear the light— while under the eyes of night and day were creatures on the loose not so intelligent but somehow more content within that breath of fresh air— no longer ours
our footsteps— thoughts in a fog of ice and flame thrashing land’s breath— creating new seed from featherless ashes— new tributaries of thirsty veins rousing Terra— rescuing her from her dark dream of compost and mulch to fructify a new tomorrow
how refreshing those times when the world offroads thru another prism door to refract a breath of newness engendering feelings a child sometimes feels— and for that twinkling I am a kid again