Iona

Iona Beech

I stood upon the lonely beech

alone amidst the beauty.

Cerulean the sea stretched out

to kiss the waiting sky.

Caressing the Dutchman’s cap and Staffa’s distant shore.

Beating the walls of Fingals Cave with timpani of sound.

Bare foot I strode the golden sands

whispering grass atop the white walled dunes

imprisoned me within.

No words will ever tell

that inner beat.

Or majesty so rare.

In that lingering moment,

when time stood still,

so small I felt.

Stooping took within my palm

a million grains of sand.

Trickling though my fingers.

Reminding me that time moved ever onward.

The hourglass of life.

Each small grain

part of the universe.

Each plays its part

and has its place

and so do I.

And You.

 

Further thoughts and words about this painting and poem can be found on my other blog. A Year Apart