Standing at the shoreline
I awake when the sun peaks
over the horizon and the waves
crawl across frozen rock and cover my feet.
I do not know how long I have been here
at this border between the land and the sea.
I have vague recollections of why I am here.
You see, years have passed and the person I am
today does not really resemble the man troubled
and lost, weak and scared.
Holding and embracing the experiences I peer
at each fragment, taste the memory and vow
to move on, to be better than I was, beyond myself
into the space and fields and sky that I exist within
and part of.
So I stand at this border dividing the land and sea.
Who will I become next?
By what standard do I hold my being to and if
I falter will I still cross the border?
I sit on the golden tinged earth
as questions I thought become
answers that I see when in the
distance a figure follows the only
path, the exact border between
the land and the sea and when
he is close his hand
placed upon my head and when
I look up, grandfather.
