Where The Shore Still Knows My Name

There’s a place where the trees lean in like old friends,
where the bluff holds stories in its weathered bones,
and the tide, faithful as breath, returns
to smooth the scars the shoreline never shows.

 
I once called this place tomorrow.
Built dreams from driftwood,
saw your reflection in the water.
Stitched a future from salt air and pine needles,
each sunset a promise I thought wouldn’t fade.

 
But the earth reshapes itself in silence.
Stars die and fade,
and not all paths walk us back the way we came.

 
Still, I return.
If not in body, in memory.
For love lives here.
Always will.
Quiet, enduring.

Like lichen clinging to a tree—
two lives intertwined,
growing together slowly,
needing little,
offering much.

 
I do not know what lies ahead.
Only that here, in this stillness,
the wind once whispered my name
like it meant forever.

 
And for a moment, that was enough.
But the wind can change direction,
carry dreams beyond the edges of the map,
leaving only the echo
of where they once belonged.

 
The waves will forever be moving.
This shore is tied to many open waters—
and though the waters may forget my name,
I believe I’ll wash ashore where I belong.

-Blaine Ford

Joemma Beach State Park Longbranch, WA

Joemma Beach State Park Longbranch, WA