I, worried, watched and wondered at the washing of the wave;
the sands were ever-changing where the children splashed and walked.
The sea itself was singing in a music without words
and I undid my burdens and my shoes that I might wade.
The whales through waters wander on their weightless wilder-way.
They sing their songs of freedom and on tyrants do not wait.
And how can creatures flourish unenslaved by endless wants?
They sing in ancient choir far beneath the shifting waves.
The whooshing wind on waters whips the wavelets wide awake;
I find myself at peace, although I scarce can figure why
amidst the host of elements in ever-rushing war;
but I am singing softly with the wisdom of the waves.
The Greatest City
Shadows soar to breathless heights.
Down below, the city lights
brightly shine, with just a hint
of twinkle in their starry glint.
Worlds around each shining star
are spinning. On each road a car
is moving fares from place to place
slowly through deep outer space
and endless void of cosmic night
broken only by stars' light.
The birds woke me at the sunrise hour
when grass was dewy and all was pale
beneath the light of a high white star;
it sang the message that all was well.
And I in the breeze (it trickled down
the blades of grass then quickly wound
around my legs to tickle my feet) --
I knew the light, and it was sweet.
The thirsty drink from flowing spring
and come to life, made quick by source;
thus I, when I hear mornings sing
in bird, or wind in winding course,
then know, as rolling sun will rise,
a Spirit lives, God's very breath,
who lightens sky and human eyes
and raises sinning souls from death.