A stirring within the water.
A pattern of signatures overwhelming
the passage of a turbulent surface.
Consequences foretold. The opening of
truth is not always accepted. Hands cut
from stone, granite facts, like swimming
underwater against strong currents.
A mirror becomes the vestibule of confessions,
releasing waves of who we thought we
might be and the reality of how we truly exist;
we change like seasons, pressing forward with
We are then reminded that a single grain of sand,
is the beginning of a pearl.