The Tide Always Comes Home

I want to remember youth. Days gone spent by the ocean. But I can’t. Memories have faded like a poster in the sun. The gist is still there but the color and power seem lost. I used to see the ocean as the end of the world. Now it’s where I call home. Was I really so small then or was I able to see the world in a different way? I’m filled with peace and tranquility but angst and urgency at the same time. Why? What am I missing? What have I lost? Where has my youth gone? My sense of fun adventure. I’m so cool these days and so incredibly boring. But yet the waves keep coming in. Unfazed by my years with no idea I’ve changed. Earthquakes happen, gravity happens, the moon happens but the waves keep coming. Strong in their resolve. The ocean is in a constant state of renewal yet somehow it’s always the same and reliable. Maybe that’s why I like it. You can always count on it. I’m envious and struggle to find what I am constant with. My parents seem to have it. So did Clinton and my grandparents. What am I missing? I have all of the ingredients but yet like the ocean, I am in constant renewal mode without the steady reliable tide coming in. Life seems to always be happening around me and my part seems relevant only in retrospect. I seldom feel as if I’m living but always remembering life as a magical ride that I was once on. I want it to be magical in real time. But not with the feeling of being out of control. Earthquakes and the moon be damned! I want to have them all and still roll in like the tide. I see the ships on the horizon. Are they coming or going? Hard to say but they are sailing. That is certain. Not tied up at bay but loose in the ocean with a purpose and direction but with a plan that is constantly changing because of the ocean. Because the earth is constantly moving. But always the tide comes home. Earthquakes and ships be damned. The tide always comes home!

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