Witch Baby Wanted To Ask Ping How To Find Her Jah-love Angel. She Knew Raphael Was Not Him, Even Though Raphael Had The Right Eyes And Smile And Name. She Knew How He Looked--the Angel In Her Dream--but She Didn't Know How To Find Him. Should She Roller-skate Through The Streets In The Evenings When The Streetlights Flicker On? Should She Stow Away To Jamaica On A Cruise Ship And Search For Him In The Rain Forests And Along The Beaches? Would He Come To Her? Was He Waiting, Dreaming Of Her In The Same Way She Waited And Dreamed?
When They First Kiss, There On The Beach, They Will Kneel At The Edge Of The Pacific And Say A Prayer Of Thanks, Sending All The Stories Of Love Inside Them Out In A Fleet Of Bottles All Across The Oceans Of The World.
I Went Through A Mod And Goth-phase When I Decided That I Wouldn't Ever Be The Bronzed Beach-bunny. I Started Going As Pale As I Possibly Could.
I Would Like To Play Pebble Beach At Some Point. I Keep Waiting For Them To Call And Ask Me To That Little Pro-am Thing, But I'm Not Big Enough.
It Was Cold And Windy, Scarcely The Day To Take A Walk On That Long Beach Everything Was Withdrawn As Far As Possible, Indrawn: The Tide Far Out, The Ocean Shrunken, Seabirds In Ones Or Twos. The Rackety, Icy, Offshore Wind Numbed Our Faces On One Side; Disrupted The Formation Of A Lone Flight Of Canada Geese; And Blew Back The Low, Inaudible Rollers In Upright, Steely Mist.
Ocean: A Body Of Water Occupying About Two-thirds Of A World Made For Man - Who Has No Gills.
I Like To Run On The Beach. It's A Different Exercise As Well When You're In Sand, A Different Kind Of Training.
The World Today Is Sick To Its Thin Blood For Lack Of Elemental Things, For Fire Before The Hands, For Water Welling From The Earth, For Air, For The Dear Earth Itself Underfoot. In My World Of Beach And June These Elemental Presences Lived And Had Their Being.
Hold Your Hands Out Over The Earth As Over A Flame. To All Who Love Her, Who Open To Her The Doors Of Their Veins, She Gives Of Her Strength, Sustaining Them With Her Own Measureless Tremor Of Dark Life. Touch The Earth, Love The Earth, Honor The Earth, Her Plains, Her Valleys, Her Hills, And Her Seas; Rest Your Spirit In Her Solitary Places. For The Gifts Of Life Are The Earth's And They Are Given To All, And They Are The Songs Of Birds At Daybreak, Orion And The Bear, And Dawn Seen Over Ocean From The Beach.
The Three Great Elemental Sounds In Nature Are The Sound Of Rain, The Sound Of Wind In A Primeval Wood, And The Sound Of Outer Ocean On A Beach.
I Typically Enjoy A Beautiful Beach Destination, As I Find The Water And Sand To Be The Most Replenishing.
I Supply My Own Angels And Demons. I Exist On A Stony Beach, Which Lowers Itself In Waves Toward A Protective Ocean. A Dog Barks; A Child Cries; The Day Sinks And Becomes Night. You Can Never Scare Me. No Human Being Will Be Able To Scare Me Ever Again. I Have A Prayer That I Repeat To Myself In Absolute Stillness: May A Wind Come To Stir Up The Ocean And The Stifling Twilight. May A Bird Come From Water Out There And Explode The Silence With Its Call.
