The calm water reflects the cold
morning sky coming on-line.
Pierced by raven calls and lulled
by rolling waves.
Fragments I carried here
begin to slip into the water.
The cold and water I have come to embrace
as years have passed, has not changed.
The same stones mark the way to an ice covered shoreline
and that tree has become a beacon and marker.
I don’t know if this is home,
I don’t know if the water remembers me.
I take comfort in the thought, that when I pass
some fragment of myself will still linger,
riding waves or falling into the depths,
merging with the sea.
So I release my doubt and stop silent objections
knowing the sea will care for me.
