Here.  In this fleet effervescence of air,
Of water, of sun, of mist
Meeting its maker as if on a dare,
Wanting above all to kiss and be kissed.
 
Here.  With this heart, these bones, this skin
Once more dimpled and unblemished.
Bit of salt sieved over honey, not fat, not thin.
Just beginning and never to be finished.
 
Here.  In this tingle, this limber unplanned ballet
Of bird, fish, and mammal, all one,
Frisk, frolic, fly, swim, and do grande plie-'yays'.
Loved ones, all alive, all having fun
 
Here.  Naked, wet, and unashamed
Of clumsy butterflies and unmasked sex,
Of hitting bottom, of seeking lame:
Sky blue, water green, sun orange, flesh flesh.
 
Here.  Here where we can hear,
Feel, smell, yes be, the sea.
Here, where we can be.
Simple.  Simply. . .be.
 
 
      (c)  Phyllis Jean Green,  2008