HOLY SILENCE

I live at the end of the road Literally. I live at the far end of an island Where the land gives way to water And that water stretches far and wide. First through a gulf Then to a sea Onward into an ocean. Every day I watch that water Lap at the sand, Break onto the rocks, and Rush over my feet I think a lot about where those waters come from And where they're going. They make me think of my own origins, My comings, my goings, and my destiny too. In that ebb and flow I hear a

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