Mining the underside

I'm re-evaluating my footing, and the shoreline on which I stand,
watching waves slide in and slide out,
slide in and slide out
over my imprint that changes in the shifting sand.
I collect all the shells that are strewn on the path,
empty of life but beautiful to look at,
beautiful to remember, to smile, and to laugh...
and I am aware of what I have become.

I'm as frightened as I ever was, and as confident...
my failures persist on impromptu visits,
as if I needed a reminder, and my heart repents
for beating in strange rhythms like this.

But I must dig into the walls of this cavern,
and the collapsing sand that fills in the hole,
because the tide is coming in again,
as it always washes in again.