Sea Mist

Soon you will be washed upon the sands of time as a memory left on the tongue tips of the angels left behind. Your physical form will be gradually reborn from the glistening teardrops we’ll cry in chorus as your body is bid to the eternal dust. You’ll slip into the arms of family through the gap of our knowing and feeling; welcomed and soothed by the same loving presence you too once grieved. All the fear you feel in the shallows of this vast ocean will no longer matter as you begin to drift between the folding waves of a final sleep. Goodbyes won’t be whispered into the sea, but the thickening mist will nod, on my behalf, that we’ll meet again someday.
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Painful Shore

The water trembles between my toes,
But the tide is yet to move,
Comforting solace repels the waves.
Sun holding itself from truth.

The sand here burns, melts away breath,
Chastising the silence, making it screech and bend.

But the water is cooling.
The tide is calming.
The waves bring comfort.
The sun still holds the truth.

The day time twists, pulling tightly,
Taking the last part of itself to keep for sure.

But the water has gone.
No tide exists, no waves.
The sun has set.