Life and Death in the Sand

Along the shore of a crowded coast, I sat musing, for the most

about man's constant strife and odd nature of his short life.

As I sat, ideas hatching, suddenly I heard a scratching, a scratching sound along the shore

It was a boy constructing a sand castle; a castle for his instructing.



Though I never caught his face, I can tell you volumes about his pace.

Every detail he sat forging, in the heat of the sun so scorching.

Building a home, a beautiful home, a home for his mind to roam.

Then came a young girl, and a sandy wife she did whirl.



The children laughed and played, always tweaking the life before them splayed.

And here is where I found it strange, the children had already began to change.

Their childhood was but an instant, and now it is far distant.

As it became that time of day, I sat to watch the tides wash it all away.



I gasp in horror to some degree, as I gazed upon the sea

No child to be seen, only a sea, sparkling green

As I argued what I saw, debating my frozen awe

I saw the tide, creeping in from my side.



As it washed along my feet, I stood solemn to repeat:

“There were no children there, only sand blowing in the air”

but I knew it a lie, their death was nothing to deny.

Then a new child leapt from the sand, where the castle had made its stand

and off he flew, to create a sand castle anew.