Winter Writings: Day 58

The beach stands guard
where ocean meets the shore
a perpetual battle
between capricious water and
the eroded detritus of ancient rock.
Between waves,
the water sneaks away the sand,
grain by grain.
Between the tides,
the sand quietly creeps back to shore.

As I walk in quiet meditation,
sand squishes between my toes
constantly shifting and changing face
blowing about in the breeze
tickling my face with tiny pinpoint pricks,
Gulls and shells and crabs are spectators
as the sand polishes stone and wood
and builds castles grain by grain.
A hundred colors blend to ochre shimmer,
glowing with sunset light.

All life can be a beach...
Although we have moments of quiet desperation,
when all appears for nothing,
we quietly continue our journey;
back and forth, win and lose and win again;
day by day and grain by grain.
And when we reach our destination,
we rest a moment and
begin the journey again.