To Wander at Sea,
Where the heart should be,
Lest devils forget the score,
To know thy place,
Where oft mind nor race,
Grow silent at the shore.

When endless tides,
The mind decides,
Hurtle from hustle to wake,
‘Be soft,’ said He,
Blinded by trees,
Stumble at daybreak.

A windowed day,
Keeps light at Bay,
As the Harbour reminisces a Time.
Though sails may tighten,
Ships collide,
The mind is malleable, decides.

Back to the shore,
The tides roar,
Crashing beachy vibes.
At Once took stock,
Noise sways the oar,
Weighing heavily like a rock.

By blot and smudge,
Be a Pluto-d mind,
Like mountains troved at heart,
Horizons discovered, galaxies unveiled,
Like dogged breath,
A start.

And Earth has searched,
From skies of blue,
Pacing quietly a-past,
The heart presently kept,
And all anew,
Now, I have found

Peace At Last.

By **MK McConnell-Brugha

**If you have read this far: yep, MK is an alias. I wrote this.