by Penny
Alone, in a vastness of white sand
A tiny blade of life extends itself upward
Through its hard, dried bed
Alone, but for wind and sound of seas
The tiny blade, tool of the wind, bends forward, then backward
Swaying with the moving life which only the wind can give
The blade makes a sketch in the sand
An enchanted band
Soon, the coming tide brings greedy fingers to the sand
Pulling shells, stone and sand to sea
Greed, kissed with one last grasp...then nothing
hellicane category: abstract
6 comments:
then nothing...how sad and true...
your poetry is beautiful Penny. thanks for sharing that.
Christ's presence does not keep the storm away but He's with us in the storm. we are safer in DANGER with Christ than in quietness without Him. Have a peaceful night!
Beautifully written...
I am out of words about this Hurricane. What else can be said?
Nice post...good with words Penny.
Good job Penny. I have been working with New Orleans newly homeless refugees all day...and i thought I was going to retire today!
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