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.

Night.

Buoyed on night winds

that twist around my house

I wander colorful countries

wearing Joseph’s many colored coat.

I float.

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.