pseudo planet

Sometimes you number the days
like ocean waves
and it will feel like as if
you would go on counting forever.

By then, every bit of yourself
will agree to the idea that there
is nothing more transient
than symphonies
of those eager to kiss
the shore sempiternally.

You would toss away
messages, let loose your voice
to bounce between the tides

and soon enough the sea will
reply in kind and give back
something you had lost
or let you find something
for the first time.

Your eyes have met the sun,
still you see clearly.

Your feet have trusted the sand,
yet your name is written in foot prints
to make a messy trail of your stories

and your soul had given in to the sound

of you circumnavigating the world;
a single lifetime echoing across and
drifting you back into focus

to where moments are finite
and immensely treasured.