Sand, Walking… (or) El Roi Hosanna

February 16, 2015

Hear the cries of
Sea-souled gulls
As dusk’s heavy,
Full moon pulls
With us, sand walking
At low tide,

Sauntering over
Shimmering shells.
Dim the light
Showing our selves
What’s been

Puddles of life
Inland, for a time…
Gathered, hurting,
We’re forced to find tragedy’s rhyme
Or perish, in the searching,
For the sundered sea

The resolution- goodness
Unknown is this:
The… End.

Can we, without the moon, call
The ocean back again?

And yet, He says it’s coming-
The Master of the moon

He sends into
The winds,
The gulls,
Our hearts-
The ocean’s tune.


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