there's that carnal place
where deep blue Tasman
meets sensual Coral Sea
it's spiritually beautiful
a South Sea space
trace a graceful line
from north to south
surfing high rollers
riding cresting waves
sometimes a fine easterly
there are blustery southern times
when it's all raging
there's that strange coastal place
where darling calm meets frightful rage
its sheer trade existence
clearly fronts with a different face
this current oceanic stage
where contrite loses faith
if we don't sink and drown
tumble fathoms in divine wrath
if great sharks don't eat us
humbly we might somehow float
beware crocodile treatment
vicious in God's salty bath
perhaps some cagey cyclone
will just blow pacific away
maybe some Southern Cross angel
love with its astral crux be enough
astronomically helping us
ferry some to virtual safety
dwell safely together
huts on another southern shore
fishing and saving our pickled souls
let us respectably breathe
let us be free to live more
those tricky dreams
what slick may come
those dives and strokes
an ocean of things taking us
down another barmy road
crossing comic and dramatic seas
where traumatic coral reefs
recite and speak in artful tongues
deep surf bound by fragile breakers
crashing over truthful confessions
washed wisdom leaving
disbelieving us seekers
unhanded and abandoned
shipwrecked and stranded
lost on a subtropical beach
paradise where the reckless ocean
reveals speckless pearls
conditions encapsulated
treasure in motherly shells
nestled under a buccaneer's mother lode
beneath emotional tidal commotion
all this great in and out
rational love and peace
trapped and buried
a semblance of pirate booty
assemblance under heavy wet sand
maybe we should hesitate
cap angry words
emotions we want to scrap and hate
instead set sail
a perfect mind and wind
navigating current
trace twinkling stars
far out on the crested sea
pray the view is less relentless
though still remaining eternal water
nothing to go insane about
but what if Venus and Mars
rendered their own
southern and northern seas
all these words would just be flattery
but with ships and planes and cars
we can't surrender
even with less nattering
we just can't set sail as we please
skillfully we need to dream
far beyond a trillion stars
still we need ground to live
always soundly buffeted
moving with a righteous wind
starboard to sultry Venus
still left of warrior Mars

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