Heaven lies beyond the hills, beside the Tillamook Head.
At Ecola’s door, where the river finds the sea,
Where east meets west and seabirds nest, my feet are often led.
Gray waves pound the stony cliffs, stout and standing tall
Rock is strong and water soft, yet crumbling ‘neath the waves.
Winter’s wrath of wind and surge slowly grinds them small.
And out to sea a lighthouse stands beyond the Tillamook Head
No keepers shelter ‘neath her lamp, Tilly stands alone,
Guarded by the white-winged birds, and ashes of the dead.
Black rock rises from the waves, beyond Ecola’s door
I long to be at river’s edge, where Ecola meets the sea
And soon and soon, I’ll walk the sand, along the wild shore.
Beyond Ecola’s Door, © Connie J. Jasperson 2016