|
| Seascape |
| Kites seek the wind here, |
| sea oats practice |
| their patient sway |
| to rhythms of seasons and years. |
| Dunes rise from the sand, |
| carved in a sculptor's caress |
| who would dare to dream |
| of creation on a scale |
| of unbounded distance. |
| A seagull holds in the breeze, |
| wings stretched wide like a lover's arms, |
| both share their unspoken word to the wind, |
| "come to me", |
| while the morning sun |
| still raises its eyes to the clouds. |
| Shells dot the sandshelf |
| in places the ocean |
| swept them last night, |
| flowing promises of return. |
| Maybe the sand still remembers |
| the footsteps, small hands |
| building impermanence, leaving marks |
| of hearts drawn with names underneath, |
| carvings of hopes and small dreams, |
| that are washed away daily, |
| both us and this place bowing |
| at different paces |
| to what finds us and binds us both...time. |
| © Jon Bohrn (2000) |
