Author’s Note

This piece isn’t about hatred for where I’m from.
It’s about honesty.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt the pull of something beyond the shoreline I was born on. Not rebellion. Not fantasy. Just a quiet, persistent tide.

“Drawn to Sea” is both wordplay and truth – a recognition that sometimes the call we feel isn’t about escape, but alignment. I don’t believe other people are wrong for loving where they are rooted. I simply know that my roots may be meant for different soil.

Some of us don’t reject the shore.

We just hear another one calling.

Rowan Evans


A person standing alone at the edge of the ocean at sunset, looking toward the horizon in contemplation.
Some shores are inherited.
Others call you by name.

Call of the Tide (Drawn to SEA)
Poetry by Rowan Evans

You can call me Moana
the way I’m drawn to SEA,
but there is no demi-god
helping me.

I must face the waves alone.

The waves of hate
from people in the place
they say,
I’m supposed to call home.

But I’m American
in label only.
My mind frame
does not align
with the anthem
in their sentiments.

I’m not saying
they’re wrong.
I’m just saying
I don’t belong.

This place is not home.
This shore was never my own.
I’ve felt the pull of tides
since my earliest days.
So I stand at the edge—
watching the horizon,
waiting for the water
to call my name.


If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

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