Sand

 

SITTING ON THE BEACH

SIFTING SAND FROM MY HAND

WATCHING THE WIND TAKE IT AWAY

MAKING NEW CONTOURS ON THE SHORE

ALWAYS RESTLESS

ALWAYS MOVING

I MAKE A MARK IN THE SAND

BUT THE WIND COMES

AND IT IS NO MORE

ITS PLACE IS GONE FROM MEMORY

THE WIND BLOWS WHERE IT CHOOSES

AND NO ONE KNOWS

WHERE IT COMES FROM

OR WHERE IT GOES

I LOOK AT THE SAND AND SEA

AND THINK

WHO HAS GATHERED UP THE WIND

IN THE HOLLOW OF HIS HANDS

WHO HAS WRAPPED UP THE WATERS

IN HIS CLOAK

WHO HAS ESTABLISHED

ALL THE ENDS

OF THE EARTH

WHAT IS HIS NAME,

AND THE NAME OF HIS SON

TELL ME IF YOU KNOW

THE SAND IS BLOWING WHERE IT WILL

THE OCEAN IS SAFELY IN ITS PLACE

AND I

INSIGNIFICANT

AS A GRAIN OF SAND

GOING WHERE THE WIND WILL TAKE ME

CONTENT

THAT GOD WILL TAKE CARE

OF HIS OWN

FRANK A VOLLMER