__ Thanks for your grand reminder, Mark, you've made my thoughts wander back… to another place and time. At Schoodic Point, in the "fifties" and hopefully now, there were no beaches; then, there was simply the rumbled sounds of time's-tides. _m
clings to its weed laced wall
low tide stones
In a time when so many cast off (even at first glance) what is broken, I thought about the beauty of broken things (people too). Endings speak to me about the cycle of life … the beginnings that follow … the place where we start from. I'm reminded of these words from T.S. Eliot:
"What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from."
Thank you for your haiku, Mark.
choosing the broken conch
abandoned by others