Tuesday, September 16, 2025

Sunset in The Land of Deers

The waves dance, 

Some in unison,

Some in their own rhythm,

But fundamentally, they are all free —

Both violent and gentle,

Embody wrathful grace;

Softly, our light kisses the horizon;

A reassuring goodbye,

The sun braces for one last waltz,

As the waves continue to dance into the night;

Light is gone before I know it —

I expect sadness, and in its absence I find reassurance,

Almost as if the waves bathed me in it as the sun sailed away;

Telling me not to worry, 

Gently, that I will see it again tomorrow

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

On the ride home, 

In the back of the urban carriage —

Despite the blasting of the speaker

The roaring of the road,

The commotion of the engines,

And the whispers of the wind among the open air;

It was quiet —

A lingering stillness,

Carried from the shore,

Caught in my gaze;

Finding refuge in my heart



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