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A WayFarer

The cliffs are the edges of paper--

That time has torn away...

Eroded rock-solid paper...

Jagged reminders of yesterday;

Once a diary of stone-hearted entries--

Surfaced as hardened clay...

But worn away from the Springtime downpours...

And collapsed in Wayfarers Bay;

Pages and pages of dogeared cliffs...

Hanging with no support in mid air...

Rock solid words of our ending---

Oh, the stories the sailors do bear;

Longings from eternities upon the ocean...

Needs that we all have been known to share...

Are written upon the cliffs of yesterday---

Eroded in rock solid despair;

The Essence
July,2010

poem by Theodora Onken
Added by Poetry Lover
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