I arose early, seeking to experience the dock in the solitude of a Sunday morning.
Later, there would be boats moored to each side, and fisherman throwing out a line, and honeymooning couples strolling arm-in-arm along its length. But for now it was quiet, content, satisfied in just being.
Sometimes we feel like a dock, waiting for our ship to come in. But the wisdom is knowing that our future is already here inside, waiting to be discovered.
When one has much to put into them,
each day has a hundred pockets.