Vanity of vanities, says Qoheleth,
vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!
—Ecclesiastes 1:2
Teach me, O Lord, to count my days
that are my only store;
for all my works and all my ways,
I cannot make them more.
Turn me from every wind I chase
to look upon that shore
where I will find no lasting trace
of those who came before.
Nor will I leave there any print
upon that shifting sand:
No memory will last in it
of any who there stand.
No matter, for the waves will sing
to lead me from the land.
I shall be gone, but still the wind
comes streaming from your hand.
And I will carry nothing there
upon that endless flood;
no treasures take, no burdens bear—
not even flesh and blood.
So I must cast away my care,
let others take my goods.
But let the wind bring you my prayer
across the waves, O God:
Lord, take from me the vanity
that tries to write my name
here on the margins of your sea
where none may stake their claim.
When all that is attached to me,
all praise, O God, and blame,
I leave behind for what shall be,
your wind blows on the same.
Beaches By Susanne Nilsson – At the Beach, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=151773050
Kate Bluett 