the sound of ocean

october 24. the wind has been howling from the deep west, bringing the sound of ocean through our windows. it's a dangerous hum - the drone of a thudding drum, a chorus in a song without verses. the world is terse, but God is never shy. we're writing our own lines here; sending the wave lengths back - matching miracles. the growls on this side of town reverberate from the lungs of babies. i make my own noise too and send it your way, like a prayer. and then i get on a plane and sit in fabric for 4 hours. i open this book and find that i hear things. at 10,000 ft in the air, i hear beats. sounds rush out of words in prose and stanza. sentences formed around the chaos of ocean roar and the sheer goodness of seeing new life and living it. it's tonic, with claws that dig deep into the skin, but it's catchy as hell and sounds more like heaven. dreams are dashed. boats are sinking. but we are better for it.