A Walk on the Sand
The sand does not float
yet the water seems to carry it,
up through the steeps,
back into the deeps.
We transcend the sand
as the water appears to carry it.
Our feet will sink;
of this we must not think.
We watch the floating sand
though the water does not carry it.
Our eyes are fooled;
by this we will not be ruled.
We climb the sliding hill
for the water will not carry us.
We'll not look to the deeps;
We must see beyond the steeps.
We lift our feet from the sand,
where the water has not carried it.
Of this we will not think
lest our feet continue to sink.
From atop this hill of sand
we proclaim that none have carried us.
We boast our rule;
the water knows we are fools.
