The Moment Past Dawn
The river is calm, early in the morning,
too early for the wind to ripple the waters.
It is the moment when the tide halts
and is neither incoming or flowing back to the sea,
a moment when suddenly, anything is possible
and you can row your small boat
anywhere, a moment
when the longest journey beckons
and fear evaporates like morning fog,
and you begin, singing, your own oars
creating the only ripple, catching the morning sun
as they reach out, to the shore, to the sea, to the horizon.
The picture was taken at Mystic Seaport, CT. You can click on it for a larger version.