In this wind,
Estuary waves crash like surfers on the sand.
What news do they bring from far-away lands
(from my notebook – May 13th)
Something stirs in my heart. I seek its message.
Be like a rock, it says. This wind brings change. Build solid foundations. Let roots settle, contained in fertile ground to flower as all things should.
Wind-swept clouds streak like feathers across the sky.
Oyster shells gleam like little silver plates. The tide rushes in.