At the Ocean

Breath is unobstructed

the salt air cleanses.

The heartbeat of the ancient Mother

is heard within

the chanting

and sound of the surf.

The prehistoric pelican(s)

of my totem

resting on air

gliding grace in flight

Have taken rest.

Too, the fire has burned.

The embers are aglow.

"Are they as you would have them?"

Yes, in a thousand-and-one

possibilities of perfections and

A multitude of permutations more.

(2 February '17)