The shores are left behind

The old, the considered, the still, the lifeless

Is dipping below the horizon

The freed breeze in the taught sails

The sun, its joy bathing my upturned face

As I hear the creak of purposeful wood

And the slap of blue salt water against the prow

I cannot cry now of the sadness.

That has cleared the dead knotted wood

Of misaligned dreams

From my heart

The vastness filling even now with a wonder

A golden light, a spirit

of Awe

In how perfect it all is

I raise my face

And laugh

Like rain

How is it possible I have found the thread again

Where I love you so much it brings me to tears?

I thought I had lost it

And the thread now leads me home…

To the welcome

Of a place

I have never been before