On a crisp chill morn’
Paradox so comforting
Fresh blanket of snow
Paradox so comforting
Fresh blanket of snow
No safer place
Than a chair by the glass
Rain pelting the panes
Droplets running into lines
Refracting dying light
Journal in hand
The lamp set low
Raise my glass of red
To waves rumbling on the sand
But the comfortable path
Is not always the best path
Or the true path
So I try to remember
Keep exploring