The Grass. The Sand. The Ocean.
Blue horizon with white crests
as far as the eye can see.
The sun plays peek a boo through clouds all day.
The tide pushes and pulls with the wind, and the scent of salt water never truly rinses away.
This is my Home.
Let it be forever.
Plant me here alongside an old oak,
on top of a good hill with a view and
together we will admire all that is this
Isle.
Seasons bring change,
bring change in the weather.
I feel the cold haunting cut deep
into my marrow. I am not helpless.
I am not alone or afraid. I am content
to be part of this great solitude.
People throughout the ages have searched for the meaning of life.
I can feel myself smile against the breeze. I am among the few, with humble visions of grandeur.
I know exactly who I am and where
Iām meant to be.
This is my truth.
I live on an island,
it comes to an end
at the Sea. A place
that finally just ā¦ā¦ Stops
Like we all do
When it is indeed
Our time
For
Stephen Michael Whitter .
The House of Raven š¦āā¬ 