On the sands of a deserted shore I lie, peering at that eternal sky.
By fate, or chance, or both, or neither, you ventured onto the path of leisure.
And thanks be to the God of love; your soul looked down and mine above.
For the first time, orange-yellow-purple-red-speckled water,
Bursting from a boundless view, now just a bit more broader.
Yet with a view a little more vast than that which has ever been known,
You were bound to realize the magnitude of your being alone.
And though I begged you not to go, a moment more you could not linger,
Quickly you went, as I descent, slipping from your finger.
And the tempestuous waves stand still with fear, paying tribute to those gone before.
Those who once towards the sands did rear then sank beneath the shore.
Valiantly they thrust upon the sand, a warmth they never could withstand.
The sea is calm, calmer than the dawn of that first glorious day.
On the sands of a deserted shore I lie, peering at that darkening sky.
II.
As I walked along the waters of that deserted shore in my quest to seek God,
I never once heard him cry out, “Hear I am! Follow my voice and find me!”
Instead––laughter––ringing through the empty air from
Seaweed held under paper trappings.
And the four-legged starfish smiled as it reached to steal my ignorance––
Then, unreachable.
Where is God?
Ask the broken shells and they will tell you––
He came in with the sea and he left with the wind.
As I walk along the waters of that deserted shore,
For the first time––I see the misery––
And hear the groans of grains of sand beneath my blistering feet.
I turn my direction towards the glistening waters.
Alas, I see God––
Buried beneath the ruins of that deserted shore––
Laughing.
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