Feb 22. A new poem I wrote at midnight.
Life is a beach, just like they say
Gold all around, like sand.
However hard I hold it though,
It just runs through my hand.
The tide is drawing in too fast
I’m running out of room…
‘No castle that ye build on earth
Can keep you from the tomb.’
These seashells cast ashore
Are just the leftovers of life.
Why gather and why hoard them?
Why not take a dive
Into the ocean of reality,
The depth of inner being?
Its not the ears that hear this call.
No eyes can do the seeing.