Tide

Soft sand
and shells
shuffling forward and back
in a time honored
tide dance.

Tumbling to a familiar tune,
meeting and separating
twice a day.

The sounds lull the listener.

It is hard
to feel frenetic
on a beach,
with pale, warm grains
between your toes,
and the intermittent breeze
that gently ruffles your hair
on its way past.

I sit on the snake of sand
found between
Pohutukawa blossoms
ready to burst
into crimson Christmas,
and the light chased blue
of the beckoning sea.

I listen
to the unchanging rhythm
of waves meeting shore,
dutifully keeping
within God ordained boundaries.

Mankind would do well
to do the same.