Everyone washes up
on some distant shore
whether through design
or happenstance

Riptides dragging us
currents taking us
either through the
grinding routine
or the adventurous
spirit of the tides

Either way

We find ourselves
in places we
never intended to go

The water lapping
the warm sand so sweet
reminding us
never turn our back
on the ocean

or risk being
swept away,
delivered to
some shore,
trapped in some life
we never cared
to know.

The sun sets
of course in the west
The Pacific is anything but,
when we find ourselves
swept up

on a distant shore
in an alien landscape
wondering
how did we get here
at all.