Watching A Poem

We came down from a lined sky descending below the horizon

That sent us lines of waves to blur the line between sand and the North Atlantic

Of course, that line was where we stood

In a line

Contemplating the space between tide and toes

I'm not a poet

I don't pretend to be

But there is a poem here

I'm watching it as these children play 

On black sand

Under blue sky

In frigid water

As one of them finds herself surrounded by the tide

On an island of rock

I'm listening to it as she speaks her nonsense words to the world

Pitched to deafen were there walls and ceilings

But here they are invitations to other children

Who join and try to join her on her island

I feel it in my sandy fingers

And ice cube toes

And chapped cheeks

I smell this poem in the icy gusts from off the water

Standing apart, away, tasting a poem

That assembles itself line by line

From toes to sky.

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"I recommend these books to everyone concerned with children and the future of humanity." ~Peter Gray, Ph.D. If you want to see what Dr. Gray is talking about you can find Teacher Tom's First Book and Teacher Tom's Second Book right here. 

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