By Roy Dean Doughty
These essences of the sea possess a chromatic intelligence
That allows them to interact with the human eye,
And thereby mesmerize their subjects
With the sweetest decrees of garbled ecstasy.
The tongue can only disjointedly stutter words:
Golds, rocks, eccentric, intoxicating,
Fluidic, aqueous, silken, delirium.
So the cast-iron vision keeps surging, as this sea
Enflashing molten coolness, weaves skeins of brilliance
To liquefy the iron.Â The people accumulate
Along the deckled fringe, and, again and again,
Crash down to the depths of themselves.
Lost in a slithering welter of images,
Their trivial tinsel finally made profound.
The colors swirl in dazzling fulminations,
Singing, â€œCome, come,
Slide into this Single Self of severed selves,
And feel the seraphic transparence of salvation.â€