As the waves pound the beach,
I am reminded, of how easily my footprints vanish.
Erasure of an idea, has never been this harrowing.
All I shall remember, is the vague image, of a distant feeling.
A drawing on the beach, now taken into the hands,
Of the endless expanse of water.
The comings and goings of the tide,
Is what I dwell on, to be a constant reminder,
Of the complexity of life, of how an idea once was but now, never is.
I draw and draw, hoping that this time, it shall remain,
Disappointment proves otherwise, until I realize,
The warmth of the water on my feet,
The gentle repertoire of salty waves,
The sweetest joys of this day,
Are what I have been missing all along, trying to make an impression,
Of what will never be.