He takes my hand and I am led,
my footsteps mark the sandy bed.
To the waves, to the sea,
the City miles away from me.
The sun beats down, my face it warms,
a calm, amid a life of storm.
He faces me.
He says my name.
But on the sea my eyes remain.
I’m glad that when he said “just come”
I rose and left and thought of none.
I’ve never felt so far removed
from my life back home (that I did choose,
years ago, when I was young,
eager to climb the ladder’s rungs.)
His eyes follow mine, towards the waves.
A mess of white tips, the ocean maze.
He speaks, his face caught full in sun,
“when here I feel the urge to run.
These days I only run when rushed,
for late appointments or moving bus,
but here I run with a surge of joy
and I feel as I did when I was a boy.”
I smiled at the notion, cast eyes over beach.
Whilst he’d ridden the waves, I’d stayed out of reach.
He’ll choose to stay behind.
The thought is burning in my mind.
It’s time to leave, it’s time to turn.
Back to the City, for the sea to yearn.