Fortune’s Favor – 8

There is a day when love moves out to sea,
When we must walk the shoreline, desolate;
The tide will come and go, then, pointlessly,
And we will wonder, “is it my turn yet?”

For bigger than the universe is grief,
And harder than the mutilated soul;
It stretches past the borders of belief,
And leaves us lessened — unwell, and unwhole —

Oh, why does love forsake us? Why, indeed,
Must everything we ever thought we knew
Get swallowed up, into the aching sea,
Under a sky where no bird ever flew?

  Or maybe, those we loved need us to learn
  They that had walked these same shores, in their turn

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