I want to be those beautiful people
sitting on the ferry
moving seamlessly through the channel
heading for the dunes of the ocean beyond.
from where I hail
yet they are tanned and smiling
wrinkled and happy in their leather
kissed by the ocean winds.
I want to grow old
walking down the beach
stopping constantly to pluck a shell
or a sharks tooth
while you wait for me a little way ahead,
smiling at the prize I find.
I spend more time looking down to gaze
at the way the water that rushes over my feet
churning up treasures
foaming froth moving in and out
as I tuck another in my pocket,
my shorts wet on one side from the
abundant gifts I’ve found.
I want to be here when I grow old,
living peacefully at the water’s edge
would I buy a grand bottle
huge and open for my treasures
and tell myself it is time to move on
only once it is full,
and what of the day when the last piece
no longer fits,
I think then I would buy another
and then another
and never give up until the last treasure
is in place,
until I am ready to say
it is enough.
The waves and tide
would still move in and out
if I were no longer there
to feel the wind
to see the stars and moon,
to awake with the rising sun
moving through life
still in search of more,
never to rest
never to let it go.
thoughts after a morning walk on the beach, watching the old couples move along searching like me for the treasures at their feet, with their shovels and laughter and the peace of this place fills me with a quiet joy.