Amidst A Tempest Of Delight

A tempestuous wind kneads the flesh of the sea,

Into white caps and swells that pitch and heave,

Whispers of yesterday become a muted roar,

As the ocean torrents where calm lay before,

Warm is the bluster and stirring of  air,

Playing lightly in the Keawa and tangling my hair,

Freckling so slightly the droplets of rain,

On my heated flesh as the moonlight wanes,

Burying my toes in the embrace of sand,

With a mind so mortal I understand,

The sacredness of music from wind in the cliffs,

White caps of waves like the sails of ships,

Star struck delight with a smell of spring,

In my solitude and contentment, lightly sing,

Tuning my heart strings to nature’s reprise,

In a perfect utopia, with salt in my sighs.

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