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My Place
November 1, 2013
The rhythm of the waves beneath your feet.
The soft whisper of the wind through your hair.
The open sea to roam, no road, no street.
The light dancing on the water, the glare.
You trim in your sails and you’re on your way.
The sea, the sky, your whole world is dyed blue.
Trust in the waves, they’ll lead you home someday.
You carry no map, for the wind is true.
The land you knew is a forgotten friend.
Long ago swept to the back of your mind.
It fades into the sky and starts to blend.
You have moved on, for the ocean is kind.
The breeze swirls you in a gusty embrace.
No need to worry, you have found your place.
© Micha C., Toronto, ON, Canada
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