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Oceans are not infinite,
Nor life-long love forever,
Yet every moment holds a bit
Of infinite endeavor.
Underneath the undertow
Remains the restive dream,
Eden in a bungalow
Nearby what life might seem.
Given the reality,
A will will find a way,
Grace to share with what must be,
Each choosing each each day.
May you thus in Eden dwell
Even here, by loving well,
Needing what you have, for then
The bowl comes ever round again.