Cathedrals on the Sand

Rising towers all around
Sculpted by water
Carved by wind

Smoothed by time
Untouched by hand
These are the cathedrals on the sand
Looming monoliths of all size
Small and large alike
We stand upon holy land
Amongst these cathedrals on the sand

No glass to stain
Nor robes to wear
Their decor derived from
Sun, heat, and cold
Multicolored stripes, striations, bands
Upon these cathedrals on the sand

Communing together awash in sweat
Filing through the aisles between
Torrents of dust and dirt
Try our soul.
Dry our soul.
Our savior and redemption awaits
In the bottom of the bottle at hand
In the shadows of these cathedrals on the sand

Grandfathers. Our oldest relations
Lie in repose
Gone before us, laughing from the south gate
I send a lonely voice echoing in the canyon walls
A prayer answered, according to magnificent plan
Within this cathedral on the sand

Views come with a heavy price
Sweat; blood; toil; pain
The giants are salve for my eyes
Balm for my tortured being
Hands laid upon wounds unseen
My heart is opened
The flames are fanned
By these cathedrals on the sand

She waits for me
Unknowing of the splendor
Only the lucky are privy to the enlightenment
The chosen ones who march in step
Fellowship of a special brand
At the cathedrals on the sand

Song of songs fill the air
Winged ones, four legged, the ones who crawl
Craft melodies of a thousand choirs
In perfect harmony
Kokopelli’s lilting flute
Haunts. Leads. Calms.
Peaceful sounds, not of man
Echo throughout the cathedrals on the sand

Over my shoulder, a vision
Of time wasted, love lost, regrets
Today is a new day, filled with promise
Of hope reborn, of adventures yet dreamed
Inspiration redefined
Drawn from majesty of the most grand
From these cathedrals on the sand

In my cathedrals on the sand

In our cathedrals on the sand.

By Greg Pressler