We went to Face Rock Beach today.
Blue skies up above, not the usual case,
no wind, no fog, a really nice blue day!

Rows of people and dogs and kids
are gathered at the fence guarding the
precipice, pointing and laughing, ooh’s, ahh’s
at the crab-dance of folks, scurrying below
on the beach, making patterns in the sand.

An artist is there directing and
moving his arms like a conductor,
a choreographer, drawing a perfect
labyrinth in the sand under the watchful
eye of the giant Face in the Rock.

They use brooms made from what’s
washed up on the beach, branches
and such and some basic tools
devised over the years.

He and his happy devotees
like to watch them wash away
in the tide, perish, dissolve,
disappear, never to be seen again,
to feel the mystery of impermanence.

Labyrinths aren’t meant to solve
mysteries, only to deepen them,
draw you, silent, to the center so you can
wait for the tide to wash the labyrinth
and you and even the Face in the Rock

I wonder if the Man in the Moon
is related to the Face in the Rock?
Were they both flung billions of miles
across space to stare at each other,
one in the sea and one in the sky,
only to dissolve in eternity’s tide?

I wonder most of all has either ever
seen their own face, or, for that matter,
have you ever seen yours?