I climb the backs of all the heaped up waves,

the sounds coming off entice me beyond any instant comprehension - -like gusts of wind frolicking among the trees which have conglomerated in a long valley that stretches among the backbones of ancient mountains- -

I sense whispers dripping off the vibrating air, an orchestra of wind and tree limbs if you will, not so much a language as a feeling or even an instinct that sings upon my bones that morality is a weakness of the human brain as is mortality of the human body.