Listen to the voices: The sea mumbles, complaining of the coast In that ancient aquatic tongue only oceans understand; Feathered whispers tossed into the air Roll off tongues of surging glass Weathered a green that never was naive; Gulls circle, squabble, float alone together Integral, apart, balanced like a Calder above this shore Bask in the colorings of a palette beyond pigment: Painted rays stain my worn frame, Work me into belonging, with sea and surf Despite my city clothes Like pioneers in pieces at the British Museum, Brave New World of Lux et Veritas, circa 1800; Here plum shadows pool under pines, Cool quiet night wells up softly spilling Over sand, darkening its reach across the strand; Water, Air join in that clasp As grasses, needles shush the cold in Evening sweeps out into the seas, the skies Aspire, irrationals: Conspire to soothe my spirit As the sea soaks the sorrow out; Trapped in flesh Amidst these currents Salt drying on my cheeks I breathe