Random Scrap:
The poets always win. And the poets have the sea. And the oceans. Walking with your bear feet, holding shoes in your hands and swinging to that rhythm along with the breeze. To the sun. To the wind. And it's free. No charge required, no transfer tickets accepted. When you lay in the sun and the world goes by but you don't worry 'cause there's no moment to miss out. Bring a book, get a story of a man who got younger 'stead of older. Meet a friend and have a walk. Love the presence. Connect the senses. With the cover of the night through the mysteries of the thy. When the wave breaks in half. To the sound. You're here to love and to live it out. To the memories of the sight. Of those eyes. Run the sun through your fingers. Breathe and wonder in your dreams. Now is only here. Nowhere else is to be. Over there is Taiwan, behind the line but not for now. And when your senses calm are and when your body tenses out then respect. This moment is to be lived not to be written down. And the poet is always right.