Fair winds, the pause of between,
ruffle the edges of canvas awnings.
The sound of coarse linen being formed
into small waves, resemble incoming
tides onto shorelines celebrating morning.
The day tumbles within minutes, creating
hours of hope with the sense something good
will happen. The manicured thoughts
we cultivate, wait patiently for the map
of our feet to layout directions like a
panting yet to be started. Cautious shadows
act as windows to advise without consent.
Every door has a face. Opening them
takes courage. Choosing, requires wisdom.
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