In the Sand

What thought can be where mental keep
The name my fingers trace within the sand 
The voice unknown that whispers calling
Always it's too far away, always it seems close at hand 
What song can sung along the wind
What other land my heart rejoices
Memories of whisper-wanting, dreaming of a word 
An unknown syllable that falls along the way 
Honey water sweet with blood that grace a trembling lip 
Dew on grassblades touching down alone
Seagull crow a hoarse cry in the misty sobbing air 
Tearless that a thought may be
Wonder that nudge close to me
What name my fingers endless traces near the sea and in the sand 
Where morning sun that can't be seen does touch upon 
A foreign hill unknown to me beneath the mists and mountains 
What string of clover tangled in my hair 
And where a lonely footstep step
A lonely face look upward gaze
A solitary silent fusion
Traced a record in this sand

                                                           -- E(lipse, Fall 1995