Poetry

DADDY, WHAT'S SAND?

by Rick McGrath
12/16/13
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DADDY, WHAT’S SAND?            

My son asked, “What is sand?” handing me a fist full

How do I answer my boy?... Knowing he was looking

for a deeper answer than I could give.

I guess it could be my grainy disposition, ruff and course

or I guess it could be covering to make the sea jealous.

It just might be a playful place kids and cats hang out.  

Or perhaps it’s a reflection of the number of stars above

Maybe sand is the image of a child that can be molded

by his mother and father who refines its behavior

Maybe it’s something to test us when it gets in our underwear

blown by nature’s whimsical personality created by God

Could it be an illusion of something more, the sands of time

that fills the hour glass of our lives?

It could be a count of each one of us, you and me

Grains of sand waiting for a storm

And now it seems to me to be something beautiful

that knows how to come and go no matter the storm

No matter the beliefs, there are countless points of view

With so many grains of sand it shows that we aren’t alone

There is life and death, and it does not wait

Life and death comes and goes as sand in the wind

I perceive there is more to the question than meets the eye.

As we pass from life to death, sand castles are washed away.

By Rick McGrath, Ph.D.