The snow-capped mountains
move again
And crash again
before the babies feet
They are drawn in
by a magnetic pull
to earth
and to this point
of sand
Where nothingness
appears to form
as a kind
of dissolving
All the force the illusion
had contained
breaks
It will carry reeds to shore
but crush
what holds its weight
So the continuous life
grinds under
what's no longer
alive
Hundreds stand on the shore
multi-colored
in the mist
Watching as that which is
most familiar
becomes
again a mystery
