I didn’t really want
to walk into the ocean.
Though the breeze was warm.

Though the water was clear.
Being dry felt, well, so dry.
And I liked it, feeling dry.

“You can’t be baptized
if you don’t get in the water,”
said Rumi, and he rushed

past me from behind, leaping,
launching himself into the waves.
Then he turned toward shore to splash me.

In a fitting bastardisation of astrophysics, the sun rose on the British colonial interest in the West, and finally set on it in the East, more than 800 years later. The first instance of English Crown control in Ireland in the late 1100s was the first step on the grand march towards, ‘The British Empire’—an endeavour later re-branded, ‘Globalisation’.