oceans are dreams (James watkins-april 2004) not hdr
Oceans are dreams, that rise and fall
beyond the conscious mind.
Vast volumed vaults transitioning-
rolling ridges ranging high.
Joined with all creation dance,
like liquid living beings-
quiet, dark depths of passion fire-
Held in viscous vision,
caught between the separate worlds-
all heaven and earthy creature-
floating figured forms unfurled.
Ghosts-aglow and gaping-
gathered gremlins, timeless trails-
beyond all thought or reason-
hidden highways, watery veils.
Desperate, driven, hungry hunters-
casual commerce-bloody blades.
Liquid-larcened fathoms fallen,
fevered fits in cavalcade.
Contrasts, calm and constant-
consumation, cold desire-
carefully crushed by eons,
in vile volcanic fire.
Down some corridor they creep-
until in rest revealed-
unto the doubting dreamers-
caustic children, filled with fear.
Decisioned paths of plans performed,
adrift in thoughtless themes.
Gathered golden wisdom,
wrapped in scientific schemes.
railing posted parts prevail-
racked with frail-formed falsities
in fictional detail.
Loving lost the guide unseen
that rules the changeless world-
and brings us back to view the sea
in vision's vacuumed swirl.
Childlike faith-vast beauty breathed,
an author, bold and bare-
for silence sake, stark stepping stones-
it's wealth unfolding fair.
Troll the tame and turning tide,
that flows in measured ebb.
Rolled rhythmic rows of constancy
in concentrated web.
Held hot the hidden history,
revealing holy fare-
formed fellowships and mysteries-
plain patterns painted there.
To see the unseen signature-
to touch the untouched realm-
to gaze at guardian glory, graced
James watkins (April 2004)