Feel the wetness of Being and all that it means
To be one with the ocean of all that exists.
One may then wax poetic and sing words of praise.
With no glass to fill half way my consciousness stays
In eternal awareness of life’s turns and twists
We are all simply liquid emoting machines.

Feeling vulnerable only emulates fear.
I can sense the reality, but I can choose
To rely on the guidance from deep in the heart.
I cannot feel rejected. My soul is one part
Of one sea that has many – each with different views.
My own take, although humid, is perfectly clear.

The pure truth in acceptance of who I’ve become
Is a source of contentment. While wet upon stage
I have acted the fool often. Is that a shame?
Yes It Is. I’m the one person who must proclaim
To those whom I’ve mistreated, I feel your outrage.
Is there something worthwhile to the beat of this drum?