I went to the beach in Winter,
For reasons that remain unclear.
I was able to gather
Some of that which I sought,
But those were lessons learned,
And not bestowed,
And are bound to pass my way
Only once.

What does one do
With snow on the sand?
Dressed warmly,
I sit,
And drink in the primordial sea.
Rhythmic crashing of the waves,
A vast accordian of thought,
One follows the next
In semi-orderly progression.

What are the lessons?
I scream to the vast expanse,
Who simply observes, silently,
While gently directing my sight to the sands.
The knowledge of all history and life,
Can be found in the silicon granules,
In the soft brown sand
That surrounds you.

It is not the answers
That you seek,
But the questions,
Which you must ask,
Which will provide the knowledge
After which you lust.

And so the lesson shall be;
All cures can be found in the sea.
And in order for your life to be grand,
Ask your questions of the sand,
And when you find things
That you wish to know,
Don't be afraid,
To go to the beach in the snow.