Yesterday, on the solstice, we
lay on the shore, sweating
in the cabana's shade, eyes
blistered from the sea's
silver searing, unable to read
or even think, just staring
through squinting slits
at the shimmering,
we spoke of physics,
my son and wife and I,
he described crystallized
miracles, carbon-fiber
ladders that would stretch
into space beyond the sweep
of satellites, gossamer
threads like elevators,
spider silks to the skies!
We lay there mesmerized
by the elemental, the heat,
the waves, the blinding
light until, exhausted,
we could take no more science.
We ran across the sand
to wade in the sea's warmth.
We spread ourselves in that
lavish wet bewilderment!,
that gentle world, where
our sunburnt lips tingled
in the brine, and watched
the ancient birds dive
among us, where jellyfish
billowed in the wind, and
we floated there, three
bodies open to the sky
like buoyant starfish,
free from the mind's
gravity, just floating,
as if consciousness itself
were suspended there
in a vast ocean of being,
waiting for the great
rising.
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