Bubbles in the Sand, by Al Barz

beaches, gold, glisten in sunshine
desiccated by tropical breezes
coagulated into ripples by gentle slapping tides.
an ideal spot for an hour’s amusement
for parents watching
children experimenting
pots and small spades
sudden excitements
undiminished joys
castles built
unimportant collapses
young life enticed
by sudden mysteries
owning freedom
like bubbles in the sand

and there look, there is a boy
not sharing
far from parents’ calls
He is not dressed for the beach
but He doesn’t care now,
not expecting to be there now
His neat shirt and shorts
socks and small shoes
for His interrupted journey
to His new beginning
the ocean has returned Him
pushed Him up the beach
the ocean whispers
“He doesn’t belong here.”
if only He could see, face down
those sudden mysteries
own that freedom
of bubbles in the sand

four years pass
broadcasts still display
hatred’s skies above those ‘not us’
politicians scream go home
on a bus that goes nowhere
or political pulpit
marketing to mad men
methods of mad hate
to rain on peaceful heads
eking lifetimes in lands we cannot smell
till our methods speak our lies
over their skies
freedom’s entrails scattered
tracks escaping a broken beauty
footprints of hope
from what we helped smush
bursting freedom
bubbles in the sand
Where once lay a boy.

2 thoughts on “Bubbles in the Sand, by Al Barz

  1. Appeared in poems already a few times, but remains actual and urgent. The little dead body on the beach is vivid in our memory. Gripping poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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