Poetry from the overtime shift

The Beach

Your footsteps in the sand are nothing more than imprints of something I imagined since before I can remember.
I sit down to find justice in the way you smile, but yet, you look away as if to hide from your own beauty

It wasn’t long ago…….remember?
The warmth of the sun fell on our backs and the ocean drenched the shoreline behind us.

I walk there often
even now, in winter

The footprints in the sand are still there, but they multiply with the imagination of so many others.
It seems you and I are not the only ones that dream.

I so often forget the feeling of watching waves hit the beach when the morning is quietly about to begin.
That sound you hear……that’s the sound of the world breathing.
And the warmth you feel…..that’s the sun bleeding like a sign of love from God the Father.

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