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the ocean's ever
changing moods soothe
uneven rifts of
wood and glass
washed up on
shore - pulls sand
into depths, relies
solely on the
whim of the
moon to direct
passion and anger
and the creatures
that bathe and
thrive and multiply
in birthing waters
older than time.

the moon's ever
changing face pulls
tides in, out -
a contradiction in
twists, in turns,
against earth, but
remains still steadfast
even when overcome,
forgotten in the
rays of sun.

earth takes in
turn the brunt
of each ever
changing cycled season
as life thrives
and multiplys she
embraces survival with
out full knowledge
or anger towards
the savage beasts
that consume her
days and nights,
turning ever in
the wake of
the pull of
ocean and moon.

their dark sides
remain cratered, scarred -
Ocean, Moon, Earth -
cycled in time.













El amor no espera a ningún hombre, ni mujer.
Envejecido y se cambiar en ciclos de tiempo,
El amor espera sólo la verdad.

Love does not wait for any man, nor woman.
Aging and changing in cycles of time,
Love waits only for truth.