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A Monument To My Thoughts

I sit in the sand
With my knees in my hands
Just staring out at the sea
Contemplating
The meaning of life
And maybe the meaning of me

For all that I've done
And all that I've won
Is that the meaning of life
To live and to build
To follow the guild
With a family and a wife

I picked up some wood
And then as I stood
I swirled it around in the sand
I drew up a picture
A plan for a fixture
Then gathered some sand in my hand

I mounded and moulded
I creased and I folded
I piled the grains way up high
I cut and I sliced
I poked and I diced
Then held out my thumb for my eye

I sculpted some turrets
Then planted some pennants
With the seaweed that lay all around
I marveled at how
My hands could endow
Such a sculpture upon sandy ground

I returned to my place
And sat in my space
Where I wrote this poetic gem
As the waves crashed ashore
I thought about more
And how poetry is my Zen

I can model some clay
Then write troubles away
All with the use of my hands.
I can also defer
To the grounds by the shore
And build castles out of the sands


Rockman  :-)

Written for the contest by Gail Doyle, "Sandcastles By The Seashore".

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