Constant waves forming at a great distance
make their journey to all of the shorelines
never tiring, never stopping, like
questions that plague the mind, like
the constant flow of energy within and without.

The waves color, their shape,
from a painting of lands lost
to natures power, of an ancient time
when the spirit’s energy manifested
in lost colors, from the grand
artist’s palette.

How old are the stones
deposited upon the shoreline
with each advance and retreat?

Seagulls soar overhead and
I retreat within to see a different landscape
fitting of thousands and millions of years ago.

I know a spirit envelopes everything I see,
feel, smell, and have become aware of.

It does not matter what name you have
for this energy, how it is manifested for
your beliefs.