Sunday, August 01, 2010

So small

So small in the scheme of things
and in so deep a hole.
Yet these grains of sand
trickle and flow, 
tinier than tiny fingers
through which they flow.
On a beach they have no voice
no single-grained eloquence;
in my sock they shout and scream
a playground of children
with such clamour and din.
And on the morrow 
tide and wind will sweep away 
the hole of today
rearrange the grains
for new imaginings
new castles of hope
from so small a thing.


Cami said...

Ah, Keith, you write poetry as I believe it is meant to be written; revealing a larger message behind bits of creation we normally take for granted in the day to day. Thank you!

nothingprofound said...

Lovely poem.