I wake before dawn and walk down to the shore.
New foot steps in the sand that I have taken before,
The surf crashes in the rhythm that I cannot ignore,
As I stand at the waters edge.
The chilled morning wind, it whispers to me.
It carries my mind back to what use to be,
And I mourn for all that I have lost to the sea,
Upon its waves of time.
Then as the gray horizon heralds the sun,
I see all the battles lost and trophies won,
And every precious day that I have begun
Watching the entrance of this golden king.
These are the things that I have saved from the sea.
Scattered pieces of water worn memories.
That on the final page of my history,
Shall be called “my life”.
The birth of the new day comes in orange and red
And new hope erupts in tears out of the regret and the dread.
So much life has past me but I still am not dead,
I run laughing in the morning tide.
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