Cold waves marking us, pushing us to the shore,
or perhaps to the safety of a rock layered island
until we can gain our feet again.
There are tough times that we don’t understand
pushed to a deceptive safety, but we can
grasp at stone, and slip
maybe even fall
when bravery isn’t true
or when we allow our spirit to drift
over the waves.
We can lose ourselves, only to find
we are reinvented.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies