of water n sand

holy-days for the young poet
mornings of sand n surf
watching the young prince n princess
negotiate the waves
as they receive their watery instruction
coffee n muffins with the missus
merton readings in the cool
morning breeze
zen sand paintings
momentarily etched
before being whisked back to their homes
mothers with screeming infants
watch me sitting upright n breathing
looking for stillness in all this hubbub and activity
holy days
finally I've got the feeling again
of relaxation
of stressless
guiltless
shameless days
of afternoons which last forever
which I was made for
but it is not always this way freends
the last day
my heart was pounding
by blood cascading around my veins
for some unknown reason
i felt
lost n scared
for no reason
and then this morning
heals all these things
the innocence of the morning
drives away the terrors of the night
light into my darkness
shone by my children's
concentration and learning
respecting the water
the source of all life
learning its ways
it helps n dangers
the water of
healing n transformation
gets me again
like always

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