Sandcastles

The water scares me. It always has. And it always will. But when I watch those children on the beach in the warm summer months, with the boiling sun on their backs in the blissful wind, I gain hope. I may never build a sandcastle like theirs again - the naive imagination of a child died with my youth. But, I now build sandcastles of a different kind. I create a collection of words, fit worthy of royalty. And I build and build until the castle is fit for living. But as I turn to my next castle, my next project, the fine gains of sand that built the old and wearing towers, melt away. Each piece slips back into my imaginary deposit of vivid images, scenes, and memories to be used again. Back into the water. Back into my mind.