Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops - at all ~ Emily Dickinson
~ ~ ~
My feet, raw, cut, and
have walked these
rock-strewn shores
for miles.
For want of stamina,
I am inclined to
stop and put my wounded feet
in the saltwater,
and yet I persevere.
This beach, littered with
jagged stones, broken shells, and
shards of sea glass not yet refined,
all brought in by the storm,
is the path I chose long ago.
It is the course I continue to choose
for it is of and for me
so I will walk onward
keeping my eye on
the lighthouse ahead.
~ Mk Michaels, 2015
