Old Bones Dancing

When you come down from the mountains to the sea
you suddenly realize horizons have no ending.
There is magic in that, and fear, and above all, wonderment

that you have lived in shadows for so long.

So let them think you mad, as you and your old bones
dance like a child in the surf.
Those who have never been lost cannot understand the full joy

of being found.

About this poem

We all have our shots at joy. But those who have lost it, and found it again tend to wallow in it a bit more than most.

I have a happy dance. I tend to use it a lot. Mostly in the privacy of my own home, but now and again….

Wallowing away,

Tom

PS – The picture was taken along the Newport, RI coastline.