From the Cliffs
You can smell the salt water from the top of the cliffs.
You can hear the waves.
No matter that the fall from the cliffs is too high
to safely descend.
It was never the beach that called you anyway.
It was the endless horizons.
About this poem
About the picture, taken from some cliffs overlooking the Atlantic Ocean on Cape Cod.
About life and the journey and the power of visioning.