SAND GARDEN

When the eternal rains are halted in the river—
minuscule and swift , shod with a thousand pronouns—
the hours rear up like flames.

Come to the coast then, where the sea grows,
this garden ploughed by waves,
this spray-lit daybreak.

The world is all for you.
You are that world.
You are water, you are the sun, the earth
and the wind, trailing behind it like a shadow