Post by AquarianM on May 24, 2011 at 3:33am
In The Tumble...
That soft wet place where water meets sand,
The place where rocks and jagged glass are chipped and polished,
Turned to grains of sand and pretty beach glass,
Constant jumble of soft roar becomes a backdrop to everything.
Life is lived always in the tumble,
Ebb and flow and power you can hear and feel in your bones,
Even if the sound is so pervasive as to fade from hearing,
We become softened around the edges,
Ground down to the tiniest bits,
Scoured into pretty bits of tumbled wisdom.
Sometimes the sun is clear and bright and hot in our skies,
Other days cool metallic grey with clouds of chill,
Marked by fantastic or forlorn sunrises and sets,
Still the surf relentlessly jumbles us,
Never stopping even for a moment.
Be it lake or sea we all seem to be washed away,
A false notion of those who can't see,
For we're always here,
The grains of sand underfoot,
As each newborn walks with held-hand,
Wide-eyed down the beach.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 05/24/2011
Miller Beach, Indiana, Lake Michigan at sunset.
That soft wet place where water meets sand,
The place where rocks and jagged glass are chipped and polished,
Turned to grains of sand and pretty beach glass,
Constant jumble of soft roar becomes a backdrop to everything.
Life is lived always in the tumble,
Ebb and flow and power you can hear and feel in your bones,
Even if the sound is so pervasive as to fade from hearing,
We become softened around the edges,
Ground down to the tiniest bits,
Scoured into pretty bits of tumbled wisdom.
Sometimes the sun is clear and bright and hot in our skies,
Other days cool metallic grey with clouds of chill,
Marked by fantastic or forlorn sunrises and sets,
Still the surf relentlessly jumbles us,
Never stopping even for a moment.
Be it lake or sea we all seem to be washed away,
A false notion of those who can't see,
For we're always here,
The grains of sand underfoot,
As each newborn walks with held-hand,
Wide-eyed down the beach.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 05/24/2011
Miller Beach, Indiana, Lake Michigan at sunset.
Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.
---------------------------------------
All of my published poetry is at:
www.lulu.com/spotlight/coloringbookforallages
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.
---------------------------------------
All of my published poetry is at:
www.lulu.com/spotlight/coloringbookforallages