Sacred and Profane

These lines in sand, these rings of sidewalk chalk
supposed to set off sacred and profane,
separate the holy? I maintain
that all such boundaries are only talk.
All things are God's: bright bird and rotting mold,
towering pine, dull dirt and shining sea,
carrion maggot and glittering gold.
My tender flesh is kin to solid stone.
The sisters of the sap in every tree
are blood and breath that flow through living bone.
Come down the beach and read our history where
a broken wave reshapes the rocky land.
Salt water merges into golden sand
and at the edge, a popeyed fish gulps air.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside