there are people who tread upon the sands of this world
leaving no footsteps
like you they stop somewhere where birds sing no more
where Lot's wife cannot look back because there is nothing to love
nothing to remember
some who own the footsteps upon the sands and the rocks
who can remember the songs so well look back and then cry
but like Lot's wife despite knowing the risks
turn into stones.
people always love footsteps, the work hard for legacies to leave the earth, some carved words on the trees, some pictures that should not fade,
they want to leave their names in glory, their houses firm and tall on the cliff, their tombs secure with epitaphs that everyone must ponder and remember that once they were here.
how useless. The sands speak and then rest in silence.They remember the fingers whose emptiness they pass as they fall quietly back to the sea.
RIC S. BASTASA
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-are-people-who-tread-upon-the-sands-of-this-world-leaving-no-footsteps/
