How do the cells remember who we are?
The double helix, the DNA,
the keys to the kingdom.
Beyond the comprehension of sea light,
sand dunes,
the animate love affair with the inanimate.
Darling,
let the ocean’s water cover our toes.
Lets listen to the rhapsody
that was written in this concert hall
of blue and gray.
I have a secret to tell you about such things.
About the memory of each cell,
of the gyroscope that balances
the feet of heaven.
That we, I think, are perhaps
not what the cells are,
what the dunes hide in their waves
of sand,
but are dreams that wiggle their toes
in sea water
embracing what they find,
its gravity, in love with the world.