I am in love with Ocean /lifting her thousands of white hats / in the chop of the storm, / or lying smooth and blue, the / loveliest bed in the world. / In the personal life, there is /
always grief more than enough, / a heart load for each of us / on the dusty road. I suppose / there is a reason for this, so I will be / patient, acquiescent. But I will live / nowhere except here, by Ocean, trusting / equally in all blast and welcome / of her sorrowless, salt self.
-ocean, Mary Oliver