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Jan 2020
The rabbits gathered on the shore
Like small, restless pebbles.
She was so unsure.
Were we to tremble?

The sea, she welcomes me.
She is so sure.
But she is so very elderly.
Perhaps she only appears to be so sure.

If only I owned this wide life.
With all its tides and strides and strife.
The dust swindled in the wind.
I should be so living. I should be so alive.

I should be sewn into this tapestry.
I should be so very calm.
The current in the water
Unaffected by the waves.

Cold is the dawn that rises to raze.
Old the worn and woven waves,
Sure of their destination
To damnation against the barren stone.
"The perpetual cadence of the vast sea
Stirs a restless desire that engulfs me.
Like an infinite force I dare not impede,
Briefly rushing in - only to then recede.
Beckoning me to leave life's safe shore,"
-Belinda Stotler
Written by
Briscoe  18/M/Australia
(18/M/Australia)   
57
   Patrick
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