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
Life in the Realm of Fantasy 
I really like that ending (and thanks for the photo), but I am left wondering what that longing means. At edges, borders, where waters meet, there is an expected shift in the essential nature of a situation. What does this character long for? Heaven? Is heaven beyond that shore? Or, is heaven at that shore, and if so, what will change?
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@Scott– I guess I just wish for all of that! I always think of that place as heaven–I love to go there and write. And not write, too, should I fell so inclined. I think this idea will evolve, as I am not really happy with the meter, and I will take your questions into consideration when I revisit this idea!
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Great post! Loved the ending too. KL ❤
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@KL–Thank you!
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