I must be getting old

Is my heart getting cold

Count me among the cynical

I echo my high school teacher’s words, “I wasn’t born yesterday”

It seems all human history is cyclical

Up to 35, I thought I knew the way

But now I can’t wait for winter

To feel the arctic air

To see my breath

And to be reminded that that’s all we are

I want to be on the beach again when no one’s there

I can count my friends on one hand

They’ve all moved away

Even my family fades

But my dog and my husband are still here

I could write an essay on loyalty

On a cold beach I can see all my plans foiling

But that cerulean water stands

Even when I try to throw it out

That ocean keeps roaring

Of the millions of people that have dipped in it

They’re all the same

From coast to coast

At the core

All of us are restless, ever exploring, looking for more

I want to stand alone again on that beach

To feel the Atlantic in my bones and teeth

Tourists go out like the tide

I watch the umbrellas fold

This ocean in all its grandeur is not to be worshipped

There’s something, someone – bigger

Though I’m aging and the next generation comes in like a wave

I won’t let my heart grow cold

I look forward to winter

But I remember all the tourists, the birds, the sky, the ocean – He made

I pull out my phone and call my old friends

We talk about the beach back when

I try to cheer them on

A Golden retriever’s tail and a man’s firm hand touch me

On the shoreline in the cold, it’s lovely

What I have right now I’ll one day miss

I think of the Maker and delight most in Him

Surely we and all the tourists are more than just mist