Ocean Chorus

Lyrics

Is not the ocean itself their past? Landscape of night for Him Who is called All-Seeing, untouched By storms, deep-silted with the motes Of carrion which stand for light God rests in nothing. The perfect shapes Delicately blazing monstrous creatures Cross obliquely eating lice and moss Here is a semblance of the first man; Sinewy, translucent, thick with life Superficially violent, inwardly calm His pulse beats in his ears. He is secretive; Entrenched in his side, the sacred parasites This is the night of his wedding His extremities reek of his wife Flesh of his flesh, a rib of sand Who is listening, not to his voice But to the voice of spirits, and waiting For the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil To climb down from the trees