I stand tonight and look over the tossing sea. I wish I had more reason to feel as melancholy as I do. Alas my heart speaks to me in a language that I once knew but now can only speak in broken rhyme. I could attempt to analyse myself as a specimen, like a butterfly you see pinned to the page. But no, I’m more complex than that, surely? Or perhaps I am that simple and my eyes are simply blinded with the film that washes over them of sudden now as I recall my once grand dreams. I shiver and pull my jacket closer to myself as the first few drops of rain begin to fall. What is it that I wish for now? I hesitate to speak aloud what has been swirling in my heart. Instead, I breathe deep. I close my eyes and as I hear the ever changing symphony of the sea I run my thoughts over the promises that I cling to. Oh thank God that I do not put my hope in mine own fickle heart! If my own emotions were the basis of the confidence in which I wake and stride forth each morn, I would be a sad thing. I breathe deep again. It is good that my roots go deeper than the mountains that lie at the heart of the sea over which I look. Now out loud I do speak a few words, a litany, a pleading, a prayer to the God who sees. Look at the stars that peek through the clouds! Look at the moon light that plays over the singing sea! No less does my heart churn yet somehow now at a slower pace as I consider all that hath been wrought for me.