Sand

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