Seaside Reflections
Written in '85 when I was 14
It is early, and to the East I see the night
being softly shed from the earth.
The moon is barely visible through the morning clouds,
like a feather resting peacefully in a nest of cotton.
The sun’s rays flow softly across the sleeping earth,
waking the silver linings of the clouds.
They show brightly now like the gold rim
on the fine china on my grandmother’s shelf.
As I walked silently across the beaches
the cold, crisp water grasped my ankles
and then quickly ebbed into the ocean.
I say nothing so as not to ruin
the splendid beauty of God’s creation.
Instead I lay back in the cool, damp sand
and dream silly dreams of the princess
who was taken captive in the beautiful castle
I built yesterday in the sand.
And consider how man’s creation was slowly
given back to the earth.
The air is no longer quiet but filled with love
and laughter from the children down the way and
from the small fishing boats leaving the harbor
to cast their traps.
I laid back in the sand to think,
and soon sleep takes me over
like total darkness to a small lonely candle.
When I awoke, the boats were heading home,
and the sun – tired of holding itself up –
fell reluctantly behind the horizon.
In the dusk of a once beautiful day,
I walk slowly home through the shallow water
near the beach and think to myself,
“Today was a good day. God must be proud.”
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