Stone waves, hard and crushing, loud and crashing, fall upon submissive rolling waters running for the shore. I walk upon the quiet grains of age-old sand, their now unique and unrepeated combinations sinking and changing beneath my irrelvant feet. I stoop to pick up a stone and cast it back into the waters, back to the raging torrents which had brought it there, my insignificant cast lost in a rush of overpowering waves. The stone fell and yet did not fall, was carried on by the current there, that pull of of mighty power. It spited me to run again to the shore. Winds called the calls they have called for eons Singing the songs the hills and stones themselves had chanted in unison. And I walked there, on that beach, on into what seemed an eternity of sand. But my footsteps were lost behind me, to the shifting sands ofthis huge glass waist through whose aperture Time runs on, wholly unaffected by such tiny steps as mine . . .
-- Copyright (c) 1981, 2002 by Jerral Sapienza -- You may reprint or distribute it provided entire copyright notice is included with the poem. Published by Lifelong Learning Excellence, Inc. (LLX.COM) For permissions: P. O. Box 380 * Eugene, OR 97440 * =USA= +1 (541) 343-1202 or write to Whispers -at- LLX.COM -----------------------------------------------------------------------------I wrote this as a dreamy 20-something, having wandered alone on the coastal sands at Newport, Oregon. I was a dreamer then, even moreso than now, reminded of the overwhelming hopelessness and solitude we experience here on the Planet until we can Look Up and realize that much Bigger Picture of which we are all at least a part . . .