When you live near the forests and the
outwaters and the river and the farmer's fields and the small old mountains but
not by the ocean,
when you visit the ocean you stop and watch how the waters
are so green and blue and placid or wild and you breathe so deeply just
remembering that inimitable scent
as you sit by the rocks, the immersed
glistening seaweeds, and the ebb and flow of our earth's waters make small
sounds beside you in communion always with the moon,
and you lie down upon huge
old cold rocks while your back soaks in the sunshine and the whole place seeps
into your mind and your memory and your pores and you swear beneath your breath
to your deep wise self that you will never forget the sight and the sound and the feel of the rocks
and the flow.
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