Posts Tagged ‘sand’


I took so much delight in having a record number of hits the other day that I couldn’t bear to do my usual Thankful Thursday post this week. It’s happened before and this probably won’t be the last time.

I’m thinking about something Erin O’Brien wrote: No one’s going backward.

I remember being freaked out about death at a young age. I never knew my paternal grandparents because they died before I was born.

My friend says that her mother back in India makes a colored sand mandala on the floor at the entrance to her house every day and by nighttime, she sweeps it away.

There’s no holding on, my friends; the knife’s edge can be dull or sharp, but it is ever-present.

Water rises and falls, drops or evaporates

Remember man, you are dust and to dust you shall return

Read Full Post »

Blue Skies Above, Low Tide Below

Gulls squabble in the shallows
where the fishing is best

I lie down in the low-tide waves,
stroke the sand

my arms sweep
like I am rowing in a shell
but I am not going anywhere today

the soft sand begins to feel dry
in my underwater hands

piping plovers
move one-mindedly
like ants or flocking blackbirds

I stand and look at the horizon
upside-down between my legs
the waves almost touching my face

can I orient to this strange world
where the sky flattens
and color disappears?

I lie back down on dry sand
cold on my bare back
and whisper your name to the blue above

I called and you came
my love

I called and you came

October 9, 2011

This week’s Poetry Jam directed us to write a love poem (I “missed” last week’s Poetry Jam, ie, couldn’t write an apt poem to save my life even though the prompt was a juicy one). Just something light and airy today, gott sei dank!

Read Full Post »