what they call defeat is what I call inspiration

rather than wandering so far out
as to be lost in the waves
he prefered the quiet, safe route
along the shoreline.

many footsteps eroded here,
generations of them in fact.
sandcastles built and destroyed by
the mere current’s creation

rather than trying to pave a new path
in the sand dunes under the sea
he sought quick refuge from the warm beach
in the trickles of the ocean’s breath

but there, in the unmarked and disturbed
pebbles and stones and mineral deposits
he wouldn’t really ever come across the key
that had been planted farther out than he had the
courage to find.