How many times

have I walked on the sand


at my local beach?

Sandcastles and

holes dug by children


small and large

by canine friends.

Lumps of wood


human detritus

shells, rocks

graveyard for a variety

of aquatic life.


Yet seeing


transfixed me this morning.

How many sets of footprints

have marked the sand

only to be erased

by wind and water?

Such a passing marker

of the human race

that considers itself

so dominant

so apart

from the rest of God’s creation.


Are footprints

a symbol

a reminder

like this pandemic

that we are passing?

And what will will we do

with our brief time?

Shall we build

or destroy?


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