Woods along the coast

Lost in the woods
The beating fog
reminds me of the vanished days
Broken and stitched, yet sweeter.
Of course I see the waves that lie
across the blinking coast
respiring of hope unparalleled :
power to serve and to stand upon,
experience to deal with traditional blocks,
to rise above the nonchalant dailies,
and an ability to do what the mind thinks,
A knowledge of the shrouded self
and re-birth of a sunken courage.
And yet the laughter of that child undoes the pomp of the hour.