I began each day like this,

as though it were the last.
I know the last days will be here, where the sun runs into the ocean, and that I will see in a movement of sea birds and hear in the sound of water beating against the earth what I now only imagine, that the ocean has a sadness beyond even the sadness of birds. that in the running into it of rivers is the weeping of the earth for what is lost.

Lost Visions