Greetings to All Who Have Ever Been

There at my feet
lies
shallow water, washing
pebbles of all colors
with clicks and clacks.
I stare
at my feet,
scarred by blood blisters
and surgeries,
blessed with age,
colored with
labels of meaning
that wash in and out with the tide.

Here all come to meet me:
the tears
of drowning sailors,
the birth blood of whales,
the salt of persons who live their whole
lives long
in water more ancient
than the very first day.
Persons I will never see
face to face.
They come to bathe my feet,
knowing I am here.