on the road to the ocean,
where strong calls, can
be heard loud and clear
on the promises of return
neon ago.
The shore is hard on my feet,
washed by the gentle waves
running to kiss the sand, rocks or shrubs.
I look about and take in the beauty
of the mass of ocean that
just swore to be there on
my return maybe in a day,a month
or in a year during my life time....
the ocean will still be there awaiting
for my return, but will life be gentle
and caring enough for me to keep this
promise.
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