God came to see me,
Once again in my waking dream,
Telling me not to waste my time,
Reminding me the sky so it seems,
Is vastly endless when viewed in our prime,
But precious time is not on our side,
There are unquestionably only so many sunsets,
Honestly only a limited number of full moon tides,
So many waking hours lined up for each person's life,
Just so much scheduled rectitude on this marginal ride.

Fiercely standing on a stony beach,
A stiff hard washed place in lonely Patagonia,
Regarding rise and fall of a grey sorrowful sea,
A wretched west wind trying to push me,
Tear me off that recklessly inspired turf,
Plow me beneath the angry pounding surf,
Drive me into that hungry tidal motion,
Force me into a deep relentless ocean.

God coaxed me closer,
Because I have not prayed enough,
Enticing me to the water's feral edge,
Wanting to wash away my earthly sins,
Tempting me to an untamed circumstantial ledge,
Knowing there are many great fish in the sea,
Knowing if I lingered long enough,
Like a broken and arrested bird,
Like some stranded forsaken seal pup,
In time a majestic whale would rise up,
Soar out of those cold black ocean tones,
Torpedo up onto those slick beach stones,
Engulf me with tooth-filled jaws while I cried in need,
Haul me helpless into the pitch of my incessant creed,
Carry my broken mortal body into that worrisome sea,
Devour me whole while I helplessly lament and plead.

God warned me,
God told me to mark my days,
Not to linger in one lazy throng,
Careful not to hesitate too damn long,
Because some aggressive force,
Some unimagined tragedy,
Some grievous farce,
Would rush up and rip me away,
Sweep me off that windswept beach,
In that temporal moment I would feed nature,
As surrendering nature guiltlessly feeds creatures,
Roar at me then while I am dragged down below,
While indulgent raucous gulls indolently soar overhead,
Taunting this wanting tellurian feature,
Rising effortless on those relentless windy sighs,
Gulls pleasing God and terrestrial nature,
Marking the days with their haunting cries.

God will simply advise us,
Remind us once or twice,
Perhaps awaken us thrice,
Before we are dead and gone with all our guises,
There are only so many blazing sunrises,
Only so many silvery full moon nights,
Only so many brilliant days and fruitful sights,
Only so many faithful days and so many goodbyes,
Only so many blessed hopes and joyful dreams,
Slated in the stars for our stately earthly finite lives.