the stillness of content

The energy of stillness:

too profound to salute

or deny. 

The heaviness to make one collapse and unflinch and cry. 

Like pressure pushing on veins. 

Squeezing out blood to resurrect all which lay as remains. 

Maybe there are no words to say, no buildings to build no buttons to press. 

Just like a collection of sand and sea sat,

simmering for the sun,

hugging its heat and accepting its fate. 

A mass so great,

beyond man’s control. 

So no one can take hold. 

A mound seemingly so together,

but easily swept or separated,

with the brisk movement of a human foot or a mold into a castle or a mote.

As an ancient mass, we watch it make love with the ocean. 

We watch it share all the essentials and mention the greatness of the world and of time and of size and of space.

For this stillness, most of us cannot create.