the wave

My day is like a wave. Crashing on the shore and slowly retracting back into the sea of time, a lifetime. My ocean is days I experienced and each drop that made me wet and affected me. Sometimes my wave hit the shore and its polluted. Like a ship that sailed on my ocean crashed, burned and spilled its oil on the shore. I get stuck and all the wasted materials my wave brings with it gets sucked up, gets polluted too...

My day is like a wave, and sometimes the wind just pushes it lightly towards the sand. Sometimes it floates as if to caress the tiny stones and and the bare feet that walks along my shore. My wave makes the shore a clean new sheet and washes up the hidden wrecks at the same time. Whats sinks and what floats are decide my the whim of winds and the heavyness of its weight on my shoulders.

My day is a wave and today it roared to land, trying to escape its own elemt, wanting to be dust and sand and fire, but drowned it all in the attempt. Now my wave has fire in its heart.