A Path of Stones

I want to move to the beach.

To build a house with my bare hands;

one that overlooks the waves.

 

I want to build a deck.

To stain it with some elbow-grease

and sit on it, watching the sun set.

 

I want to lay stones in a path.

To use the sweat of my brow,

and pave a trail across the dunes.

 

I want build a dock.

To burn the midnight oil,

until I can dip my toes in the tide.

 

I want to carve out a boat.

To put my nose to the grindstone,

until I can paddle past the breaks.

 

But one day,

 

I will leave the house, cross the deck,

take the path down to the dock,

and row the boat into eternity,

 

hoping all the way my talents were not wasted.

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