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The grooves of wood soaked planks
Lay embedded in the bottoms of my feet where I stood looking out across the lake.
Droplets of water ran down my face as I shivered on the freshly trodden beach.
The lake awoke with labored breath and exhaled a rippling, shimmering surface.
I had been taken by the beauty of the expanding depths and the cloaked darkness; having to
Wrench myself from beneath its solemn, protective womb was in itself, a task I nearly failed.
I looked across the lake and saw the oak trees dance and swing in the cascading wind of dusk
And listened to the subtle whispers of storm clouds emerging from the west.
Mist was hovering around the horizon’s setting sun, glowing orange in hellfire and fading daylight
It would rain tonight
And I would watch
It would wash away the
Mystery of my day and
Soak the earth in such a
Way as to bring about
A beautiful renewal
But there is a sense of
Sadness that corrupts
The halcyon days I’ve
Begun to leave behind
Will I live to stand upon the shore
Again, or will I forget that I was ever here?
Will my life begin again or will this be the end?
I watch the sun slip soft to slumber and I feel the wind and thunder
And my soul bleeds into Earth; Once to find its purpose and once to stop and wonder.
-Sean M. Tolbert



Blanchard, United States

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Does youth always protect you from the realization of finality?

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