Can I even remember

The last time I sat

On a beach?

It may as well

Be the first.

The sun holds its breath,

submerging itself

In the sea water

And the waves seems to extend

Into the sky.

The tide is low

And the breeze is so docile

I almost can’t feel it

Wandering between

the t h r e a d s

Of my clothes.

I forget briefly

How it feels

To be cold.

I try to breathe

In time with the lungs of the ocean

expanding and contracting

Against the shore.

Inside and outside

I am here alone.

How long can I stand it?

Can I spend enough time

With my own thoughts

To understand them?

I could fall asleep here—

Curled up,

An ear against this balled-up sweater,

listening down

to the core of the earth,

Waiting for God to speak.

I wonder how many grains

Are in this handful of sand.

An entire universe is here.

Where have their tiny journeys

Taken them?

Maybe they were born

On the other side of

This vast seascape.

Or have they always been here,

Like turtles in the wild,

Never straying far

from their birthplace?

How big is the world, I wonder?

They fall between my fingers

Before they can answer.

Where will my tiny journey take me?

I think of all the gusts of wind

And currents

That carried me here.

Will I be so small

When it ends?