As our feet slowly sink into the sand,
And it squirms into the the cracks of our shoes,
The wind tries to blow us from where we stand,
And the sun pays off its last daily dues.
I can feel the grit filling up my teeth,
And my eyes sting from the wind’s and sun’s burn.
I can find a resolve from underneath
As why I’m on the dune ready to learn.
For it is only here when I’m alone,
I can contemplate things of great import
That this great expanse of grain was once stone;
Nature wished it to be another sort.
Where will the wind send me when I am done?
Will I still feel the warmth of the sun?
John Collings 