Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: James Aitchison

Tasman Coast, New Zealand. Photo by Ginette Pestana

At journey’s end,
carried by waves
not of our making,
we come to rest.
Tumult is done;
at last we can claim
immortality.
We have travelled far
without fear,
without anxiety,
for we knew that
tranquility awaited
and we shall be
rewarded.

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