To look at the sea is to be part of an onwardness
from the year dot. To venture upon an original
coming and going of ways, a multitudinous
shift – is to witness a miracle
at once from the outside and in. Alleluia
say the waves. It is to dive deep in a firmament

of vanishing shape and sound, a dark firmament
of swept-away light. Only an onwardness
holds sway. The mind comes to. Alleluia
cry the waves. The deep is filled with an original
making-of-many, a miracle
out of the One. There is a multitudinous

time-line, such as to give rise to a multitudinous
Earth. To look and be linked to a wave-firmament
is to be part of a restless miracle
of beauty. There is an onwardness
deep in the mind, that will quicken to an original
beat of life, to accompany it. Alleluia

breathe the waves. But oh today a frozen alleluia
holds sway in the halls of Art. The multitudinous
voice of the sea is stilled. The death of the original
is the silence of the age. In the eye of the firmament
is a mortal chill. Where is that free onwardness?
What is this freeze, this mind-set? By some miracle

of the seasons, the ice will unlock. The year’s miracle
will loosen the fetters at last. Alleluia
sigh the waves. As if from a sleep, a light onwardness
will take the mind out of itself. The multitudinous
waves will dance again across the firmament
as at long last the tang of the original

returns to the halls of Art. To look at the original
sea in itself is to be part of a miracle.
A poetry of light in the dark firmament
will let a deep song-word be known. Alleluia
pray the waves. I turn from the shore, and the multitudinous
store of the future and past. The onwardness

of an original spark was mine and I say Alleluia.
That it shone was a miracle in the multitudinous
firmament. That it was borne on in the sea’s onwardness.

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