I dipped a cup of water,
From the edge of endless sea.
Such ocean I will know as God,
While the cup resembles me.
Within the cup are particles,
Of substance undefined;
Yet sole in their uniqueness,
And clearly unrefined.
I’ll view such things as trials,
Or memories distilled;
That oft obscure such clarity,
In practice of my will.
The sand I’ll place this cup upon,
Shall be of life, surround;
Ever-changing with the wind,
Forms ripples on this ground.
Compressing cup into the soft,
Creates stability;
But grounded to such fickle sand,
Defers my destiny.
So lightly I will plant this cup,
On this shore and unafraid;
And welcome curious tidal reach,
With Spirit’s hand in wave.
The sun that rises, east to west,
Is incessant pass of time.
Intense or distant is its charm,
And never will be mine.
As it speeds its warmth and bright,
Across my vessel, waits;
Such heat will pare my still design,
And I’ll evaporate.
Yet, choice in my possession,
To choose a time, that when,
I’m left with only particles,
I may dip my cup again.
There’s comfort in the knowledge,
Of life upon this shore;
Where time may find me self-contained,
And needing nothing more.
Some winds deposit challenges,
For some I’m unprepared;
Appending my complexity,
To those I choose to share.
One day the sands will surely shift,
And toppled I will be;
Spilling freely, I’ll reach out,
Returning to the sea.