3Cs

There are three seas.

There is a sea of Earth, and the continents are the merest crust, vast and unimaginable masses of rock drifting through ages that none have known. No one can own one handful of dust of any of it. The continents are shadowed deep below in the molten core, ghost forms, perfect replicas in relative minature of the massive islands where most live out there lives and a few are foolish enough to say =this is mine.= Who owns the younger twins of the great tectonic plates? Where are the lines drawn to say this is ours and only that is yours? If you are on dry land then wherever you sit, wherever a foot is set down, you are connected to that sea, your weight is pushes against all of it that pushes up at you equally, cradles and holds you, dust to dirt to rock, the grand spherical cathedral gives provides a berth for you, the least of its gargoyles, to frighten away all the bad spirits that might hover on the other side. What could you possibly wish to own?

There is a sea of Air, always in motion, always signing joyously of the spirit of Gad. You live in this sea and by this sea and without this sea you cannot live. Homelessness is an option and starvation is a state but without air you will die right now, immediately, no exceptions. Can you catch it in a net, bottle it in a particularly becoming venue and sell it for exorbitant rates in the spas and botiques of the rich? We may destroy a little of its value but nobody yet has sucessfully managed to charge for the pleasure of breathing it. It is a public service, provided for free, twenty-four and seven. So just what do you think has been denied you?

There is the Sea we all call the sea, every one recognizing it as the cradle of all life and our first home. It's tides push our eyes up to contemplate heaven and down to seek the mysteries in the earth, it travels the whole world 'round unbroken, it even rides the sea of the air and comes down rain to feed every thirsting thing. It is the model and the message of the spring of living water, it resides in every low and hidden place, a million million unfathomed chasms deep in the chambers of the Cathedral. Hidden in its depths the whales still sing songs of an ancient chosmos, of the stars by which they navigate by methods unknown to any woman or man, of the long and distant shore that waits for us all. What shore are you beached on? Haven't you heard that you carry the Sea within yourself? Where are you going expecting to find something you don't already have?

klik if you demand tedious explanations of every little thing.