There is
something
to the idea
of riding the wind
instead of stubbornly
trying to change its direction.
I walk to the ocean's edge
find a seashell in the sand
I toss it back to the water.
It doesn’t belong to me anyway.
Tag: ocean
Changing tides
I see the water meet the sky’s edge
I expand, here.
I take in what's changed
what's remained.
I remember the moments
I came to her shore
seeking something other
than what was,
seeking answers.
Today
I come to her
with a new request.
Her waves sing
and I ask for witness
as I recognize
my own growth.
I seek her
expanding memory
so that when I forget
she’ll remind me
that tides change
and so do I.
Shoreline
Paused,
I stood on the boardwalk
unsure of how close
to the Atlantic's edge
I could allow
my planted feet.
I slept on the beach
as the sun drifted
to horizon
and I still
could not touch my
body to the
water.
I knew then
that if I
sought peace
at the shoreline
I would find myself there.
Yearning and sad.
Emptying what
came before
and making space
for the new.
Unsure if I could
continue grieving
what came and went,
what did not
happen.
The shoreline contained
both open and closed ends
of whatever it is
that led me to the ocean water.
The shore revealed
all parts of me
alone and seeking
something other
than the company
of my own mind.
And so I left
the ocean
and its company
a day early
because I was not ready
to hold
what its waters
led me
to face.
The Restless Crescent 