She collects sand,
\ndeserts and beaches,
\nwherever the earth has not covered itself,
\nwhere it refuses to congeal
\nbut lies waiting,
\nfor footprints,
\nfor the rhythms of the wind and sea.
\nAnd I help her,
\ncollecting her samples,
\nnever sure if these dry amanuenses
\nwill write a message for her,
\nput some of their secrets in a jar,
\nshow her the countless changes
\nthe world makes
\non one tiny portion of itself.<\/p>\n
To be put on a shelf,
\nand when she glances their way,
\na thousand creatures of light and dark,
\ndry and wet,
\ncold and fire,
\ncome to her like ghostly arms,
\nand leaving their touch,
\nask to be returned.
\nTo scatter and become other utterances,
\nshapes,
\nflourish in the world of dune, rock,
\nand barrenness.
\nDoes she sense something in all this sand?
\nDoes she know the place and time of eternity
\ncaptured for a moment in a jar?<\/p>\n
I will collect a jar of soul,
\nand name it with my name,
\nand tell her,
\nplace this by the dust
\nthat formed my eyes and hands,
\nthat listened to the walls of the universe,
\nand followed rainbows to the very end.
\nAnd place your sand on a morning table,
\nthe Cascades, Miami,
\nplaces as far as Ontario,
\nand with tea,
\nlet\u2019s listen to their tales,
\nand release them one by one,
\ntelling the world where they\u2019ve been.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
She collects sand, deserts and beaches, wherever the earth has not covered itself, where it refuses to congeal but lies waiting, for footprints, for the…<\/p>\n