Moksha

 

I know the way the waves 

come in and pound the 

sand and bring her 

gifts from the deep.

I have seen the way

the shells stop themselves 

and lay there belly-up and 

belly-down and paint

the morning sand with love. 

have tasted the 

way the brine sprays 

itself across the 

beach, toward 

the grasses bunched 

together in a dune.