Leaning against the wind and rain
So that we fall forward.
A struggle for the opportunity of another struggle,
But I wouldn't have it any other way.
For these wrinkles, these shades and bruises
define us and commemorate
times we overcame gravity.
And every bend where vision breaks,
every stone, every shape,
and every smile and memory
reminds me of this simple shore.
Until one day we leave this place.
Our words will echo through the caves,
and waves will wash across the sands
until nothing is left
but footsteps fading away under foamy tides.
Lost to an ocean of change.
Blades of grass and timber grain,
The fowl-set ripples in the lake,
The cactus blooms and needle pines,
I bless and count them every day.