Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Drifts of Sand

It is not meant to be understood —
the twists of fate.
It takes us in
and around and through
the portals of our creation,
but doesn’t stop there.

Oh, if it would just
rest on a happy day,
or the view of the sunset
warm, rich, alive.
If it would keep the child here longer
or keep this moment forever in us.
If we could hold fast this love
tie a knot on it
perhaps the pain
could be in our bearing.

But time moves on.

We are sand
sifting through life in one direction
absorbing what we can
going out the door alone.
Leaving our loved ones
with the hope
that we are still here

and perhaps we are.