Thanks to Fonda LaShay for the photograph.
A dark blue slate atop the ocean sits
ever moving clouds that billow out, consuming the sky.
Father time rolls and romps in his watery dreamland,
swelling the life origins and setting them back down.
Its not their time yet.
Each wave pushing out from its home
trying to reach the sun and douse it.
Life so vast rests within the womb larger than any nation.
Cradling the world in its bosom,
the only sense of direction given is a surrounding horizon.
Turmoil in the graves of men ever moving
beneath skies and storms alike.
Deepest blues of blackened marble.
Holding secrets and treasures beyond compare.
Fleeting moments of eternal serenity.
Allow for all transgressions to be forgotten
with all sins set aside;
washed to oblivion in currents long running.