Waiting the Tides

You have sat in this spot in the sand for hours
watching the tide slowly abandon you,
moving farther and farther away,
each movement of the waves imperceptible,
and yet, with the evening falling,
the water’s edge is far, far away.

You have been in this place before.
In love.
In faith.
in the paths you chose but slowly drifted away.
Watching them. Never seeing the movement
until they were, almost, lost.

But the tides tell our tales. Tell our truths.
Everything leaves. Everything returns.
And it has far less to do with us than we would like to believe.
Except, of course, our persistence. Our patience
to wait the tides, to not wade in too fast
so they drown us, but stay, and wait
for the water’s return, For always,
it returns.

About this poem.

You probably don’t need an “about” on this one. It’s not subtle. I’ve lost a lot in my life. I have reclaimed a lot in my life. I think there’s a pattern there. Like the tides.

Right now, the tide’s coming in.

Tom

PS: The picture was taken at Cape Cod.