Walk Unto My Shore My Soul

Walk unto my shore my soul, and walk unto my sea,
tread upon those prints in sand, and every grainy bree,
walk unto my past my present, and step into that age
where every err and every fall was the work of a sage.
Were all those times and days gone by, easier than now?
and are not all those times to come, arduous not to bow?
then walk unto my sea of thought, and every shore left dry,
and ask yourself to relish now, and give a solemn try.
If I and you and me myself could turn back all those days
perhaps these golden sands would cup a drink of joyful plays,
but walk unto where you came forth, and walk unto yourself,
and in that pool of ash and birth do kindly leap and delve.

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