Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Sparkling waters and sun baked sands

One of my favorite things to do in the Summer, or really anytime at the beach, is to toss off my shoes and go stand just where the waves break and let my toes sink in as the waves rush out.  To me, that moment is almost infinite in it's motion.  To think for eons these same waters have washed upon these identical sands, depositing their treasures from the deep and burying memories of the past amongst their tiny grains.  To hold a handful and watch each, sparkling grain fall and disappear with the billions below is to realize that each one could hold a single memory, a dream, a hope from other travelers much like yourself.  I wonder, how many wishes have you made on the sparkling waters and sun baked sands of your lifetime?  I know I have made more than a few, probably close to a dozen or more.  But the secrets, and dreams I have shared, that tumbled from me and out into the universe are far too many to count, and I am glad that each tiny grain remembers them even if I do not.


On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.
They build their houses with sand, and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.
They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl-fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.
The sea surges up with laughter, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach.
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships are wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.

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