Cape Cod Paths
The skyline is cold and barren.
Trees like skeletons pose in the distance,
moaning in the wind.
There is a path, empty and dry,
not quite straight,
and like all paths, it leads to the sea,
to the place where sky and water come together.
You have no idea how far the path takes,
or how many twists and turns.
The landscape is indefinite.
A dead beauty, raw as your soul
and just as ready for spring.
For that is the truth of it.
Winter comes. Winter goes.
and so the same for each season.
Nothing on this earth is forever,
no matter how it seems, no matter
how terrible or magical the moment seems
Secret? There are no secrets.
We know the way of the universe. but refuse to believe
in the God of second chances,
sure somehow he is keeping score
when instead he waits, arms open,
the one eternal thing. Love.
About this poem
This poem started out as one thing and ended up another. Sound familiar?
PS – the picture was taken at Cape Cod last March.