The only thing
Unchanging
In a landscape
Of the past
Unchanging
In a landscape
Of the past
Is the part of us
Which believes history
Is about the past
Is the part of us
Which believes history
Is about the past
I sit in the dunes
Shrouded there too
By the tall dune grass
But perched here
On the hillside
A few hundred feet high
It is just 20 miles
To where the sea
Touches the sky
Where waves crash onto jagged rock
Foaming
Each breaker a crescendo
Of thunderous water
Some things need
Just a hint
Of the plenty
Others deem
Essential
I remind myself
There are always options
Where they begin
Is as much a mystery
As where they end
But their promise of adventure
Calls to me
Aum, it says