Anew

Dusk falls on the beach.
The shore is littered with debris from the last storm,
waiting for the night tide to sweep it away
like grace, making beauty out of remains.

Nothing dies.
This is what we learn from the time we are children.
Nothing dies. Everything changes.
Tides rise. Tides fall.

You sit on the sand watching the sun fade,
and with it the color. The sea. The sand. The shore
all fade to grey. Wait long enough and it will all go dark.
Only the sound of the waves remain.

Far out to see you can see a light. A passing ship.
It crosses the horizon.
Wait long enough and it will disappear.
That is what you crave now:

the peace of emptiness.
No worries. No tasks. No needs.
A place to empty your soul and begin the next day
anew. 

About this poem. 

Simply a yearning.

The picture is taken just beyond Provincetown, MA.

Tom