The early-morning mist
dissolves. And the sun shines
on the Pacific. You stand like
Balboa the Conquistadore.
On the cliff top. Among the last of
the Monterey Cypress trees.
The old whaler’s hut is
But whales still swim through the wild
Sea otters float on the calmer
Cracking abalone shells on their
Humming birds take nectar from
the red hibiscus.
Pelicans splash lazily in the surf.
Wander down a winding path. Onto gentle sands.
Ocean crystal clear. Sea anemones. Turquoise waters.
Total immersion. Ecstasy.
Victor Burgin, 1976