dock of the bay

buildings scrape for the first time again in some time
and piano players strum guitar with their cases lined with red velvet
and please, god bless.
what is it here that isn't anywhere else
that harvey and lawrence and jerry saw and ate.

haight-ashbury lined with sweaters, piercings and park
offering buds every time you look at anyone's eyes.
muir forest with reds and greens and earth so thick with life.
wharf markets and whole foods and poets shouting at traffic lights.

i saw a lady with a wheel chair lined with cats with slitted eyes.
she was asking for money and giving political advice.
lebanese coffee shops, buddha statues
hills looking into misted mountains with bridges and night shaded brothers.

you know where I am and i want you to find me.
everyone else kisses my neck but doesnt smell like you
or look into my eyes, touching slightly in conversation
as you play your truth about how to save your self, messiah.

you may always be there for now but i made to meet you blessing.
and mariners will be as they are until in light we can answer cryptic
harvests together, committed.