The briny smell of weed
clinging to bare rock,
swirls of water rushing south
as ebb tide drains the inland sea,
emptying the stone-lined cove
to gravel and driftwood.
Surrendering to time and tide
I follow the way of water
toward the silent moon,
and drain my heart
to bedrock.
Reading of “Surrender” with music by Bob Dylan.
And upon this rock is raised the temple of illumined consciousness.
I appreciate your poetic expression of surrender. The peace known in letting go is to be welcomed. Thank you for images of moonlight, of moving in the way of water.
Don, the photo with your poem is perfect.
Yes. Poignant.
Very soothing. As I approach the end of my 8th decade of life, the image of surrendering to time and tide seems congruent and replaces the striving of my younger years.