Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Sunday, October 7, 2018

Sea-shells

The buoyant waves,
swirling, twisting,
and swiveling festively,
crash at the shore.
The majestic tides,
those irresistible, raw,
liberating bursts of energy
recede.
The shore sand shines,
littered with beautiful
seashells.
Those empty carcasses
with echoes of ocean
resounding in their depths,
reminiscent of a
life lived beautifully.
Such impermanence,
such transience,
such evanescence.
All temporal affairs
so short-lived.
All joys come to pass.
But in the wake
they leave behind
their indelible mark.
That beautiful ink stain,
bearing exquisite testimony
to the cliché,
not how long you live
but how well you do it.
What worth your life carries?

Photo prompt @ Sandra Crook

Linking with Friday Fictioneers