The Stacked Stones on the Beach (Poem)

Smooth, sand-birthed,
The earth's souvenirs of centuries before
Laden on top of one other
Tipping but comfortable under the sun's rays

Here, bare feet travel leaving footprints that don't last
Before the lazy, lapping water of clear dignity,
Two expressions of blue, sea and sky
A Rothko painting free for public eyes

Good things happen here,
In the place where time comes to ease its worries.
This home of colored stones and their familiars
is rarely quiet, but nurtures the flaming ache of the heart.

-D.