And somebody said sometime that a gong sounded out over the cliff….. And I realize that I heard those gong reverberations from atleast 1000 miles away…..

Over a canopy of mist soaked green….. across plates of broken glass ocean…. The sound waves carried and struck me like my own harp string being strummed…..

And silence in the aftermath…… a shaken earth…. a shaken body from within…. her gestures calm and milky like her face……… as she braced against sound movement  beta brain waves from 1000 miles away…… keening yogic movement….. wind falling, calling like a dirge…… held hollow in the palm…. passes through poses with a translucent gaze………………………. it ends…………………..

And into and over contagious laughter……. vibration….. makes the mounds seem surmountable…. gray peasant robes, threads knitty from an ancient loom, flutter bashfully in the coming springtime breeze…………..

And plates and shards of broken glass ocean….. inelastic collision with deep jettisoned rocks below………. call, swirl, tempt……

So the sea, he reaches…. with spindrifts tall and cool…. searching…… Graces her limbs left feeling………….Yet its powerful pose she chooses…. at a green soft precipice…… and falls to upward soaring…… into air’s bright sky…….

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