The winds of change are blowing
Across the stones of time;
With the winding river flowing,
To the sea.
Hawthorne marching to the hill,
Bordering fallow fields;
And Gulls soar on wings held still,
Above the sea.
Gloomy winter’s pall, shadow of decay,
But life awaits in ambush;
For the bright and lengthening day,
O’er land and sea.
Horizon’s defined and lasting line,
In twilight, day and night;
A Mariner’s guide; an eternal sign,
Across the sea.
In substance we do not stand alone,
Past, present and future blend;
Carried on the wind, in air and stone,
Edged by the sea.
The times of youth are not remote;
Uncertainty; a searching mind;
Before life’s ship set sail to float,
Upon the sea.
All things we learn and must face,
Come and go within our span;
But we’ll maintain this sacred place,
Beside the sea.
Monty Alexander 31.12.02