MayMetMo 2020 #15: Detail for Seashore

We don’t see much in a grain of sand.  But Billions are at the beach.  The sandcastles, the umbrellas propped up in the sand, tiny air bubbles coming up from the sand from the crabs living below.   Every spec a different color giving it a tan hue despite all the orange and blue.   The noise is as similar to the sand, a thousand waves crashing down on the surf, crescendoing in rhythm and timing as the moon pulls the tide against the rocks.   The sounds become a roar, a cacophony of might and majesty, where everything that was is broken down and left scattered.   This sand is different than the sand on another beach, or a rocky lakeshore, different but made of the same stardust.   Iron and carbon, and pulling away we see the earth and the cosmos are all like grains of sand on the beach of the universe, hardly a speck at all, hardly anything in the grand scheme of things.  A blink of the eye to an ageless wonder, that came long before and will be long after.   The smell of salt spray, the taste of brine and fresh air mixed with the perfect roar of the waves on a sunny summer day.   The heir apparent child, with its plastic bucket filled to the brim with tiny universes all waiting to be made into a castle, that will fade away and become sand again once the tide rolls in.   We are of stardust and beach sand, and every one of us, a castle, waiting for the tide.