Paw and hoof and foot pock marks extend towards a grey haze of horizon.

Each one the scar of this morning’s moment of happy free abandon.

They swirl and knot and zig and zag and finally lead back to the dunes.

They die as happiness gives way to indelible terra firma.

The day matures and the sea takes back her own, we dream of tomorrow.

Tails wag and it all seems so infinite , the sea wipes the slate clean,

and we walk again, and we walk again, and we will walk again.

Born again to the sway of Te Tai-o-Rēhua,

born again as it has always been.

Until that sea wipes us all clean.