As sand crumbles through my fingers changes circle me and swallow
documented, noted, set afloat in drifting bottles
I throttle ocean currents permanently on the tides
and watch the continental drift amidst the oceanic rise
I wander silent tides into a worn appreciation
til the dunes erode to sediments the hour glass has taken
Sun forsaken, salted, dried and time decayed from tumbled waves,
the water wades upon me talking humbly to my presence
My Caribbean soul engulfs a mortal body’s essence
We spread horizon wide and rest appreciative in bed
for anytime our spirits drift with more ascension than they ebb
The fate of anchors weigh on me though weight is just illusion
chained to frames of endless name compressing what was buoyant
Changes make the music, grooves between the moving currents
sings the smoothest words of praise forever raising my assurance
When the bottles drift for centuries they bring with them commitment
understanding that the contents can’t combine with outer liquid
for salinity’s obtrusion can degrade the basic truths when
the ancient honored movements touches aqueous solution
I’ve hurricanes and tidal waves to crush the dreams of many
Pulling weight from out the heavens to assault the bodies living
Where our sediments can mix returning soul to soil and sand
springs a reef beneath the surface catching remnants in its hand
When you break the lies of gravity we sink beyond the skies
Hence the reason why we leave our breath beyond the times and tides
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