Sand and the Shadow
A shadow--long and distorted,
Its image pressed into wet sand--
Waits.
The fog of once before dissipates;
Clarity and wisdom remain.
In awe, she stands still,
Watching rare, sacred silent waves
Slide over wounded sand.
Dancing ripples sparkle and fuse
Into a sleepy sun.
She sucks moist air,
Drawing the essence from a tranquil sea.
In this place,
There is purpose.
Finding her peace,
She shifts her weight slightly,
Forcing sand between toes,
And waits.
