Low Tide
"Low Tide"
The pungent smell is not for all.
For me, a rich aroma comes.
It hints subtly of mortality,
A fact not faced easily.
Oysters revealed, spritzing,
Muddy sand exposed to see.
Here not to dust the dead return,
But to watery Mother Earth, Nature's urn.
Seashells and other flotsam
Grind to grains tiny of sand.
Once God's creatures living life,
Return to the raw, no more strife.
A reminder then of the future,
The same for all, man and beast.
Dust for some, others scattered at sea,
That's what I hope for me.
.....But not too soon!
The pungent smell is not for all.
For me, a rich aroma comes.
It hints subtly of mortality,
A fact not faced easily.
Oysters revealed, spritzing,
Muddy sand exposed to see.
Here not to dust the dead return,
But to watery Mother Earth, Nature's urn.
Seashells and other flotsam
Grind to grains tiny of sand.
Once God's creatures living life,
Return to the raw, no more strife.
A reminder then of the future,
The same for all, man and beast.
Dust for some, others scattered at sea,
That's what I hope for me.
.....But not too soon!
