From the distant sea of mind,
salt-laden waves of time
escorted my floating skiff ashore.
Elated, the wandered soul
knelt and kissed
the moist sand time had left behind:
prodigal spirit welcomed.
You may leave the struggle
but the struggle will never leave you;
such is the working purpose of fate:
We may never know why we left
or where it was that we went.
We simply now rejoice in returning;
aware that never is the struggle alone.