Song of the Distant Shores

When mist has veiled the morning skies,
seek not the sun — but find the lane
where in the shade the soft light lies,
untouched by shadow’s cold domain.

When night has left your home alone,
leave on the sill a blooming sign,
the wind will carry seed it’s sown
to other windows, warm with shine.

When rivers steal away your name,
breathe it to dawn’s first quiet glow,
and hearts that hold the ancient flame
will hear it deep, and still will know.

Let those who gather shells believe
they hold the ocean in their hand;
yet in their grasp they still receive
only the hush upon the sand.

But you — keep light in words that flow
without an address through the years,
in melodies the heart will know,
in touches free from grasping fears.

And when the storm at last will fade,
and seas return the shore once more,
let your small boat, with course well laid,
come home with wind it knew before.