I have lived in this house built on sand
for quite a few years.
I begin to understand
why sand sings underfoot.
Once part of the main
each grain knows
Earth’s epochs of fire and ice
floods and dawns filled with birdsong
salt seas then sweet water seas.
West winds, lake waves of jade and blue
stack clear quartz sand into rolling dunes.
Our house on the dunes
receptor for news whispered
through quartz sand.
Heartbeats, drumbeats, shaman flight.
Buoyed on night winds
that twist around my house
I wander colorful countries
wearing Joseph’s many colored coat.
In a tumult of stars
Venus blazes a path across the sky
shines in each quartz granule
passes over distant lands
I see in dreams.
Awake or asleep in my house built on sand
I go everywhere.