Always a harbour,
A place, a safe anchorage for rest, to make repairs, collect provisions, and weather storms.
Even when unattended, still they wait.
Always an airport,
A place for the birds, balloons, gliders, and deckchairs,. flight by any other name, but an aeroplane.
Even if the airport is just for the birds to come and watch all the peoples’ comings and goings.
Some here are as big as countries, while other double as pubs, homes, and places to sit and ponder within three miles of garden.
Even when there is no rails to visit the platform.
A summer can be wet, dry, and at polar extremes, summer can be just handful moments warmer beneath a gray sky.
Even when some cultures define summer as two or more seasons by different names.
A winter in the tropics in places will see no snow, but still the few degrees of change, winter still exists for the people, plants, and animals.
Even when some cultures define winter as two or more seasons by different names.
Always a sea,
In places here, where rain rarely falls, the inland sea becomes a sea of salt, a sea of sand.
Even when the seas of costal lands will always have water, the inland will exist, waiting.
Always a beach,
A beach of pebbles, shells, shale, grit, and coral, for sand had to start somewhere.
Even if at first, the beach was a little harder on the feet.
Always a heart,
Both warm and cold to touch, and at times, often a little indifferent to its surrounds.
Even when lead by the feet, in whatever direction you so choose, still a heart.
Always a man,
For there is always funk, rock, jazz, blues, and more, soul will find you when it’s ready.
Even when you’re only listening to pop, you are still a man.
For me it makes no difference, diversity will always exist within an individual.
Even when surrounded by many of similar kind.
Thank you for the poem, thank you for the questions, thank you for allowing me to stretch my mind, and ponder…
Something written in response to another poem, perhaps a while ago.