What shall I make of this meeting?

I linger on the edge of water and land.

Some call this a beach
and some look for the horizon
but I suspect there are other ways of being here.

Shall it be sand or rocks or water
that hold me while I fall
into the depths of myself?

How can I carry on
when I am afraid
to turn back home?

Some say an ending is the perfect place
to begin again.