Footprints in the sand
I walked out today, out along the deserted beach,
resting in my solitude, knowing I was out of reach.
My loneliness was about me, a feeling I could taste,
was my life so meaningless, my existence a waste.
Did I miss an opportunity, did I take the wrong turn,
no friends about me and know ones respect to earn.
Finally I reach the spot, a place I feel that is my own,
a place I can be myself, just to sit here and cry alone.
Today my heart is heavy, the sea birds calling to me,
their calls chirrup like laughter, can't they let me be.
Bare feet push into sand, beside a rock on which I sit,
take pebble to throw out to sea, but stop, I look at it.
This is not a stone, I had rarely seen the like before,
the amber, almost clear, I look deep inside it's core.
There a tropical fly, trapped within this presentment,
then I sense a similarity with my own predicament.
My temporary distraction just lays there in my hand,
only then I see the footprints, so clearly in the sand.
Someone else has visited here, this my special place,
a violation of my sanctuary, is this my fall from grace.
Then I realise, the footprints just walk out into the sea,
is this then my way out, the only true way to be free.
bkewl.
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