SEEKING SAND DOLLARS

—Ocean Beach

This beach
named “Ocean”
on the other shore
I crossed the sea and ocean
to land on
is the edge of the world
stretching endlessly
in America.

I heard that the waves
sometimes sprinkled
sand dollars
on her Golden Coast.

Even with the shells
sporadic and scarce
and shell pickers
numerous and eager
I neither full of hope
nor without hope
also lean over
to search.

Yet in the ocean storms
violent and capricious
the sand dollars
delicate and exquisite
may already have been crushed
drifting and scattering in gloom
unable to become whole again.

As my heart drained of spirit
my eyes exhausted of strength
inadvertently looking up
toward the vast water
I see the splashing fountain and
giant black back of a whale
emerging—
like hope
burdened with weight
but full of power
once arising
the whole ocean
will surge with it.