WASHED UP ON THE SHORE

WASHED UP ON THE SHORE

Awake did I lying on the shore, soaked were my clothes,

Under the morning sun, waves crashing on the sand.

I think to myself about the last night’s storm, I survived,

Unless this is a beautiful Island heaven, I am alive!

Dry off in the sun, time to think and plan before this day is done,

I’ll find a spot to rest and sleep, what to eat, catch a fish, fruit possibly.

I need to keep a cool head as I might not be rescued soon, maybe not at all,

How am I blessed in my all alone mess, I’m alive! I could have died.

I can bathe, swim, find some wood, a fire is not an impossible task,

No crime or sin, not a siren or noise that brings pain to an ear.

Not a threat against me except that of men against nature,

I can call this place hell or home depending on my outlook.

Quiet nights and peaceful days, walks along the shore okay,

Washed up on the shore, God is with me, judged no more.

Keith Garrett

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