Bright Buckets

Bright buckets bulge with sand and shells today,
brimmed by children busily at play,
intent on building, digging time away
upon the beach, sand castles they inlay
with scalloped decorations castaway
by last tide’s currents, scattered anyway
along the tattered margin of the bay.

A tiny grain of sand was yesterday
caught up within the complex interplay
of forces ‘yond our ken which ever weigh
upon the stream of consciousness to sway
more than a moment’s notice in their way
regardless of the influences they
appear to have upon our day to day.

Our meditations led far, far away
to rock formations which Time’s Go games play
until the grain by wind or water spray
from bedrock blown, is worn down, dust or clay,
key silent witness to life’s chaos fray.
What change of scene, and what has been, what may
yet be that grain stands witness to Time’s stay...?

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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