I haven't got a clue where the first waves began,
the ones I'm walking through on this amazing day,
and wish I knew how the sky became so blue,
how these palm trees grew from seeds
that came from who knows where,
or why I love to rhyme, make music with my words,
say what's on my mind and breathe the air,
feel the breeze my eyes can't see,
loving how it comes and kisses me,
soothes my skin, and makes me glad I'm here.

Are there even words, syllables, sounds
that can say with any certainty
how we came to be among so many creatures--
birds, bugs, wild animals in jungles,
woods, and fields, lobsters, and whales
snakes and worms, all of us, large and small,
walking, climbing, crawling, flying, swimming
in lakes and ponds, and rivers flowing
from high mountains with melting snow.

“Life has more imagination than the mind,”
a poet I once knew in Greece said to me,
and I looked at her old wrinkled face
and knew her words were true but
still a mystery.

Is there a God, a great creator, who made a spark
and said, “Let there be light” and from that fire
or Bang the stars and moons and galaxies
exploded into being and here we are,
eons later, trying to explain what force, what energy
gave Life its imagination?

Oh Life, I may never be able to explain
how you came to be, but it's to you I pray
we don't destroy what you've created.
That's why I stop in these waves I'm walking through
and close my eyes on this amazing day.