My feet touched the ground shrouded by a deafening silence
The wind and the sea made me spellbound
I saw the rolling hills of blinding white stones
I stepped from the safety of materialism to the epicentre of despair
The irony that I could speed away anytime never left me
I decided to walk out alone amongst thousands of lost dreams
The first white stone came into focus as the tears stung my face and the words paralyzed every cell of my humanness
“He sleeps in a foreign land, in a grave we never see. May god guide a kind hand to lay a flower for me. Mother~”
As I stood on the precipice of loss; the beauty of this resting place will never be forgotten and you touched me~
Juno Beach, France
Carl Meadows november 6, 2016