The Equilibrium of The Shore

Any attempt

To make an impact on the sand

Is washed away by the waves.

In life, we try to

Carve our initials into the sand

Unbeknownst to, or perhaps knowing

How soon they fade

With the coming tide.

We repeat again, and again, and again.

Eventually, we start to wonder,

Perhaps there is something larger

In the way it exists in equilibrium

And we should not try

To write ourselves into the sand.

Perhaps it is less beautiful,

If we break its smooth surface.

Perhaps that is not how it wants to be,

How it should be, 

Or more accurately,

How it is.

I still seem to be drawing lines though,

Swirling

There is something meditative in watching

It wash away

Letting your influence be ephemeral

Your art be ephemeral,

Yourself. 

Acknowledging that,

That is not you

The you, you think is you

Is also ephemeral.

And really, you are part of us.

The us that does not wash away:

The equilibrium of the shore.

Absent of any impressions

Made by fingers

That soon too will decay,

I watch the sand smooth and unified,

And if I sat here long enough

I too would wash away

Till only my bones remained.

And if they stayed here long enough

They too would sink into the sand,

And every part of me

Would become part 

Of the equilibrium of the shore.