I walk the beach to heal,
feeling the sand cushion and comfort
my tired feet.
I hear the sound of the calming wave,
see the sandpiper’s
long pecking beak and skinny legs
scurry in the bright sunlight.
With each mindful step, with each crashing wave,
I walk the beach as the rocks line the shore.
I find ease in each deep breath,
more freedom to stay in the vastness
of time and space.
I pass the ocean’s creations, its windy inventions, monuments of driftwood, objects molded out of seaweed—a shoe, a vest, a boat’s bow jutting from the sand.
Beyond I see the earth’s rotation, the universe in motion, feeling that my walk will be an endless circle of my imagination.
I stop and stand patiently as if on the skinny legs of the sandpiper, realizing that this was my first home, where it all began.