Beach Walk Pondering

Each morn at dawn I stroll along the ocean's sandy shore, the beach. Each day it's different, but always it's as it's ever been, malleable, resilient. Sea and beach - what a perfect pair, a couple holding hands, together, since time began. Particles of sand, remnants of shells obliterated to grit, eroded to dust by the pounding of waves relentless. The grain flecks flock, they huddle and cuddle together as sand. Barefoot, I strive to find an easy path along the edge, where the sand is neither too soft nor too hard. Where the sand cushions my footfall steps without sinking too deep, without making a tiring drag. I am ashamed to leave footprints scarring the seashore's face. But along the edge, the sea and tide will heal the cuts, bruises and blotches, I make each morn. Soon, the beach will repair itself to be perfectly smooth again, making a mirror to glisten and shine the sun's reflection. As I look back, my footprints have gone. For the beach malleable, resilient is the perfect sea barrier, far better than us mere mortals could make. It erodes and returns like the tide, It forms dunes to shield the vegetation It absorbs and quells the dashing waves It says cheers to the froth, bubbles and spray transforming them into white bridal vales, as the sea and beach renew their vows, malleable, resilient.