Poetry

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At last, the last drop of light drips
from the sun's golden cup
The last ebb of the endless tide
laps upon the receptive strand--

Before the darkness draws us in
with arms of soothing comfort
We search the sands of our lives
for left tokens...

There may be more
than we imagine
Some perfect shell from
the shimmering depths
that we have never seen--

Then, because the day has been full
and we may rest
We let the last trace of doubt
drift away on the receding tide--
We cast upon the restless waves
till not one breath, nor one whisper
of regret remains.

And when the last wave returns
unto the dreamless deep
bearing all of our past away
except the good...


We embrace the welcome arms of night
and await the coming dawn.

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