THE SANDS OF TIME
The ocean builds its bars of sand
Inexorably till there’s land
Extending inches farther than
It did before this all began.
Yet it destroys within a day
What it so painstakingly laid
When waves from surging hurricane
Submerge all back to sunken plain.
But quickly cycle starts again.
Now tranquil ocean works to mend
The damage in one day it rent
Till bars of sand once more ascend.
Raymond HV Gallucci
Words and mist drifted over open water
searching for allegiance.
In the distance, ships silently cross
dark smoke rises from them,
appearing as fingers, directing their paths.
The sky and ocean merge into a
corner of blue; small clouds dot the surface
as if lost in a theatre of greatness.
The ships fade. Dusk rolls in a carpet of gray.
Birds sit quiet.
The earth sounds firm beneath me.
My courtyard Buddha
looks right at me,
sipping my latest moonshine.
My moonshine days
are filled with waterfall rays,
looking within and out again.
These ephemeral days
are never far away.
My moonshine instills the calm.
Like a bird that sings,
I am in everything,
re-discovering the humdrum patter of life.
These moonshine days
have earned a special place
in my courtyard.
Heretofore, I shared only with Buddha,
my favorite mug of fiery brew that
Until now. Dear reader,
consider this your
invitation to join me.