Friday, April 21, 2006

Sand

What use are doors
With no walls around
None locked in
None held off

Memories are held
For things that are past
Answers delivered
When questions are asked

If what you hold is unbreakable
Then break, it will not
If what I hold is invisible
Then exists, it does not

Foolish are these footprints
That meandered too far
Marred the fine sand
Split the shores in half

7 Comments:

Blogger blue rogue says...

the last lines have such a note of foreboding:

never to be retraced
nor recalled what the sand
so easily forgets
like the count of grains
it has stretched out in unconconscious sympathy,
stinging eyes that
never stop looking
for traces, the sand
has already lost.

11:32 PM  
Anonymous valhalla says...

Thank you blue rogue. That is an eloquent response!

12:28 AM  
Blogger _Soulless_ says...

We tread on, though at times purposeless, seeking that which can, should, justify the simple act of moving. Occupying another patch of space, though briefly and without trace. Hmm. (Reminds me of the chicken-and-egg dilemma. *grin*)

Loved the philosophical undertones of the first and third stanzas. And the ending -- *whistles* You astound me. ^_^

12:51 PM  
Anonymous Valhalla says...

Soulless:
As always.. coming from you, peotic compliments are so very inspiring.

5:18 PM  
Blogger IdeaSmith says...

Invisible but very much alive and present. Maybe you just don't see it...but believe in it anyway.

9:23 PM  
Blogger Day Dreamer says...

I enjoyed the the journey (of my life) your words took me through. You are very talented.

10:02 AM  
Blogger N. says...

Foolish are these footprints
That meandered too far
Marred the fine sand
Split the shores in half

Beautiful lines...

2:08 AM  

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