Rest
I return
to the beach of my youth –
there I lay
sun baked –
bare legs, shoulders, arms
hugging the warm bed,
listening to the earth,
ear against the towel,
unobserved communion
with my old friend.
I surrender, melting,
countless grains of sand
yield to my flesh,
flow into the contours of my body,
an hourglass of memories,
sift through my hand.
I hear the ebb and flow of surf,
the blood pumping in my heart –
it is the same ocean,
the same sun,
the same sand,
the same heart,
the same child
resting from play.