It Always Comes to This

After the storm, it always comes to this,
standing alone on the shore.
There may be flotsam all around you.
The sands may have shifted beneath your feet.
But the storm leaves eventually. Always.
And it comes to this,

standing alone on the shore
with all the peace you allow.

About this poem.

Life is rough. Life is beautiful. Life always changes. I fight hard for my peace. And in the fighting, find it. Talk about irony!

Standing on the shore,

Tom