Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Native Soil (Poem)

Native Soil

Following a Sandman’s soul
I searched for steps
Footprints to direct me from here
To there

Along shorelines
Tidal waters washing
Some impressions away
Exposing others
Tempting me, coaxing me
Forward.

Imagining where they would lead
Perhaps to higher stations
Spiraling stairways
To beacons of light
Making lives my duty
To guide them home
From stormy seas.

Or maybe these paths
Would lead
To a seaside grass hut
Humble
Love woven
Through floors and walls.

When at once
I spied discernable keeps
Fallen on the strand
I approached this lowly abode
What once was meant for
Kings and Queens
Opulence eroded

Alas!
All I wanted was a home.

© Expressions by Christine 11/8/10

3 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  2. Castles? Who really needs them?
    They're heartless, so damp and cold
    Palaces? Why should we bother?
    They're facades where grand lies are told

    Better to live humble, house of plain wood and stone
    Fill it with life and love... and call it a home!

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  3. Lovely words to cherish as a comfort of searching through the debris of life to find a belonging!

    Thank you. I really enjoyed reading this poem. You are very clever in your expressions!

    LOVE LOVE, Andrew. Bye.

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