The unknowable

In the hidden gulf, far out, where clouds overshadow rolling seas, intimate almost, a seagull, flashes of lightening far to the east; no rain but the ominous sign of showers; a darkening sea going from blue to grey; a wind invisibly moving along the waters surface.

 

If ghosts or phantoms lived, if spirits and spectrums and omnipotent forces prowl, which they might, here on the inhospitable far offshore sea with a horizon in all directions of water and sky; here this omnipresent, all knowing, non fearing, absolute wonders the surface and then submerges through the waters deep to the crustacean on the ocean floor.

 

Here genius doddles in the surf, admires it's handiwork, drifts with the gull to the smells of seaweed. The unknowable by us humans drifts west after some time crossing the shoreline, travailing over the marshes, passing the highways, moving over the towns and villages, moving upward and away through the stratosphere, beyond the moon, out of the galaxy, beyond the universe where the great unknowable source winks back at me.