Lines in the sand
Every grain is a stance
A billion questions
Drawn by fingers and hands
Ideas proliferate
In the beaches of minds
Then disappear as grains do
As the tides begin to rise
Their journey is the coast
Where the most gather up
Till more disrupt the flow
Ignoring stop and go
But coconut sprouts from nothing
A tasty food for thought
And the beaches grow lush with foliage
That feet press into mush
