No One But You
Beneath the heavy cobalt sky,
The sea whispers soft, a lullaby.
A lone figure rests on weathered wood,
A king of silence, where time once stood.
The dock leans weary, worn by the tide,
Yet steadfast it cradles his quiet pride.
The harbor hums with a world unaware,
But here, stillness reigns in the salty air.
His gaze lifts to the distant hills,
Where the wind carries echoes, calm and still.
No one but you would see this scene,
A quiet world where the heart turns serene.
In the solitude of the ocean’s embrace,
He owns this moment, this sacred space.
And though the city hums out of view,
There’s no one here but him—and you.
No One But You came from a quiet moment I had on Thanksgiving Day out on Ediz Hook. I remember standing there, watching a lone sea lion stretched out on a weathered dock under this deep cobalt sky. The harbor was faintly buzzing in the distance, but right there, everything felt still and timeless.
The scene really stayed with me—the dock, worn but steady against the tide, and the sea lion, so calm and at ease, just gazing out toward the hills like it had all the time in the world. It felt so personal, like the moment was just for me.
That peacefulness inspired the poem. It’s a reminder to find those small, grounding moments of stillness—even on a busy day like Thanksgiving—and to appreciate the beauty in just being present.
