uncovering

A favorite past time is beach combing for sea glass and perfect pebbles. This concrete beam caught my eye. Probably because of my faith, I saw a cross.

My cross
buried in pain
denying me the focus
harboring confusion
blinding my vision.

Washed ashore

It is grace that lets me see again despite the occasional tear. It is the monotonous chore of examining each moment of my life, throwing the defective stones to the “sea” for refinement and forgiveness. These same stones will was ashore  and another person’s worries will be released and soon the worry will vanish. The stone will have been weathered gone.

stone
in a pile of stones
thrown to an inland sea
left alone.

—————

a pocket
of stones
weighted
down
trousers belted on.

 

Memoir Photography Poetry

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: