Memories of Snow

The Old Swimming Hole

The Old Swimming Hole

At the old swimming hole,
         the hot dry sand burns,
         the sharp course grains scour naked soles,
         and clings tenaciously to wet feet.

At the old swimming hole,
         the warm we sand soothes,
         like that washed by the movement of ocean surf,
         comforts the lonely soul.

At the old swimming hole,
         the bath worm crystal clear water
         is four feet deep,
         and its bottom is smooth cement.

At the old swimming hole,
         the sun warms bare skin:
         the power of God
         to bring humanity together is unlimited.

At the old swimming hole,
         the joy of the assembled friends
         surpasses the splendor of the sun.

At the old swimming hole,
         the companionship of the Baha'is
         creates heaven on earth.

At the old swimming hole,
         unity is taught through actions,
         in play we show that
         cultural diversity doesn't exclude racial unity!

At the old swimming hole,
         the sun climbed higher,
         shedding its love upon humanity;
         the children are watched over by their extended family.

At the old swimming hole,
         clouds assemble behind distant mountains,
         gathering into lakes preparing to deposit
         their cool blessing upon the high reaches.

Poet's Note: ▼

This was written sometime in 149 B.E. The inspiration was an outing, with a group of Baha'is, at one of the pools in a gated community.