Written In The Sand Poem by Matt Mooney

At the seaside on a still afternoon
Seated on the steps of the strand;
Before me my grandchildren play,
Busy with their castles for today.
A sudden sweeping breeze arose
Airlifting sand for a few seconds
Like light blonde hair softly flies:
Towards me an ephemeral signal
Marking of time-of now and then,
Of youth and age and life a whim;
The Messiah writing in the sand,
Words for the woman at the well-
Likewise on earth scrolls secretly
Now and then on sand to all of us;
On the beach lots of dads and lads
Hurling a sliotar hither and thither
In pendulum measures of pleasure.
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