The unending pulse

the unending pulse
 of the almighty sea--
plunges and rises
for willing ears to hear,
wide eyes to see

the constant moan of the wind, the scratching of newly planted pines in the southern garden

frost, attached to trees, shrubs, cars, and cement -- making cold
a kind of tough love we have learned to more than endure

some things, beyond our control- force us to listen even more intently

to give up all the drama
of "whose fault it is", and to
 get on with the story of healing our own lives

freedoms found through
a walk in the woods--

echoing the sounds
of breath, woods, and sea-

pooling as one
wild and free entity

  ~words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '18