THE BEACHCOMBER

When waves beside are pounding,
And thunder stalks the sky,
The clouds are black and ugly,
And you begin to wonder: "Why?"

Reach for your ’comber’s knapsack.
Don’t stand staring. Keep your nerve.
Retrieve your inner beauty:
The candle in reserve.

Strike the light of self-awareness.
Hold your lantern in the air;
A beacon shining brightly,
To show the world you’re there.

 		With it you’ll see, behind you,
Sandy footprints small and neat.
They’re passed, and tide washed, fading.
The future’s at your feet.

Look. Scattered all around you
Are the treasures of the beach
To gather as you fancy.
They are all within your reach.

copyright © Nicholas Thomas 1996

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