To the End

The old man said,
“You travel until you find what you’re seeking.”
I stood there at the edge of the world, my end—
Singing waves, islands dancing, the pub standing on the hill.

I ran to the end, I told him.
This man, a random stranger to me
Weather by time, love, and loss.
Stood before me with a knowing smile

There stood I, drowning in all I’d lost:
A family chosen, given
A health in a beating, steady heart,
A síocháin only heaven grants at last.

More than coincidence, a connection
Hung between us in the salt and silence
The wind that once drove me now faded—
I was home in this land.

I heard the old man whisper,
“You travel until you find what you’re seeking.”
He turned away, down the path I’d once taken,
My steps behind him, his ahead—until the end of the world.