It is good to approach the water's edge.
Here I put behind me all that which has
been so loud-voiced, so particular
and pressing.
Held by the constant rhythm of the waves
rolling in regardless of millenia,
struck by this vastness tickling my toes
and hushing.

It is good to find the sea and the sky
create and preserve with a lasting kiss
my ever out of reach horizon,
caught in the mist.
And the gulls blown clear over sea lead on
above and beyond my thunderous road;
sent out to formless blue, they and I.
A time-worn wish.