To the beach tonight, I long for the salty air. The sun has completed its’ days’ work, so Helios rein in your trusted steeds; the moons dance with the clouds has just begun or is it a game of hide and seek? A storm is brewing, falling in off the gulf, rain in the distance, moving from east to west of the jetty which extends out from the coast, penetrating and dividing the waves. The lightning, a spidery web of energy, electric veins of the night sky, counting the seconds when the thunder roars, 1001, 1002… the miles it must sprint until illuminations arrival. The waves are wanting of my feet as they melt into the sand; I see a path of light on the surface of the water, guided by the moon’s reflection. It disappears, comes back into play, a lot like you, coinciding with the rhythm of the moon and clouds, the light and dark, the sacred and profane… wild heaven and all it will allow.