The Ebbing Tide Poem by jim hogg

It's time to mention how time flew,
so fast, and yet it seems a while
since I once stood where others stood,
and gazed beyond the ebbing tide;

since I remember picking up,
that tartan knife beside the road,
when I was very, very young
- when I was only three years old,

and never thought to look beyond
the very moment I was in;
though sixty years have come and gone
a living thread binds all of it,

connected to a web of threads
that weave together all of us,
across this frantic sea of ends,
this teeming edge of what's to come:

too many things to comprehend,
but some will rise and some will fall,
and some will build and some will rend,
and some forget and some recall.

But soon or late we all will stand
and think of all the boats we've burned,
and cast a rueful glance at last,
beyond the tide that never turns.