The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep,
And round the pebbly beaches far and wide
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep;
A voice out of the silence of the deep,
A sound mysteriously multiplied
As of a cataract from the mountain's side,
Or roar of winds upon a wooded steep.
So comes to us at times, from the unknown
And inaccessible solitudes of being,
The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul;
And inspirations, that we deem our own,
Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing
Of things beyond our reason or control.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
An ocean with all the swirls and eddies of the sea surrounded by the rocky shores...
and in the midst of being tossed about, the soul finds an anchor...
a chain to hold to with all its might.
Today, just the one.
My muse departed on Thursday and has yet to return.
If you see her, tell her to come home...