A Cliff

A cliff stood alone, tall and proud guard, waiting for motherly voice, a sea, in the stillness of the new day. Unaware of Sun’s first glory clouds hovered over the bay, and asleep seemed this soul in its tiny niches as a breeze comes by, a dance of sea nymphs, in an archaic dream. Nothing seemed anew for the beacon of the bay, captured by own destiny of never discovered land. Captured as time stood still, as no past, nor future ever existed, just the presence of the same visions, and seagulls play, the unchanged voices from a day to a day, and fear of unknown became the hope, the purpose and the newly found strength.