As to embody the magma itself
Rouge yolk arises above the horizon
Burning its existence in every moment,
It dies, and the revives, every second.
Slowing climbing to the apex,
The pan reverberates its presence deeply
Silently, calmly, and ubiquitously.
Then it descends, as azure darkness leaks in
Ever so subtly, until the seed of ember
plants itself again into the dormant soil
Like a slow wink of a sperm whale
Who descends into the abyss
Searching for its final destiny.
8.25.2021
Ralph with Coffee 