Ebbed Out, Not Effed Up

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‘Ebbed Out, Not Effed Up’

So, the tide has ebbed and gone out.

Your flow has flown, so to speak.

Maybe it’s a rock bottom.

Or perhaps you’re just lying on the mud and silt; motionless, hanging onto your ropes and reflecting only yourself dimly.

But, you are not f**ked up, not finished yet – the next tide will come to re-purpose you – just you wait and see!

The New Flow

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Walked down to the river shore this afternoon to calm my head.

An ebb tide, about as far out as can be.

Mudflats, shell banks, strewn rocks exposed.

And layered and eroded sandstone, captured in this photo and then subjected to some post-production flight of fancy.

Something bright, molten and fluid resulted.

It brought to mind, and to life, a poem I wrote a while back ( I don’t write many) and posted here: ┬áBond / Flow

This is for those who have ever lost hope.

Peace,Andy L.