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What am I, but a handful of yesterdays.
This loss, and that gain; think of them as daybreak.
They’ll come around again.
All these false dawns, only our final sunrise will expose.
These inimitable winds, they’ll soon sweep you.
We spend life running; different paces.
To get to the same destination.
Have you ever thought about that?
We’re that sea oft moving, sometimes staying still..
..your shores complete you.
Maybe you are what you seek.
Maybe it’s within you.
We stare out of these windows, perhaps we peak in from the outside?
We think our loved ones perish; perhaps we are of the dead.
We drown in this drop; perhaps they come alive in the ocean.
These losses, they’ll come around again.
Every goodbye is a broken melody.
Perhaps the symphony we haven’t yet heard.
This world breathes in the death of sound.
We hear so much- yet never listen.
Sleep in the lap of experience, and surrender your dreams to imperfection.
You’re a tear running down the world’s face.
Happiness may sprout, when you’re wiped away.
Heaven sees no sunsets.
All that you lose, goes to a place of greater love.
And if it’s that, which you cannot replace,
What it gave you; you must become.
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Thought for food 