Clouds swirl on the horizon.
Yellow sea grasses wet with rain,
washed out,
swept by squalls.
Waves, driven onto the beach
to clutch at stones,
are dragged back into the surf.
Eternity unseen,
seeps in.
Its whispers of mortality ruffle thoughts
as wind ripples puddles on the sand.
Futility creeps like the tide,
eroding confidence, leaving shoals of doubt.
The sun breaks out.
Each blade of grass shines through the rain.
Shots of blue sky appear.
Waves roll.
Seabirds bob on grey waters.
A dog leaps out of the tall grass like a dolphin,
ears flapping.
People lean, into the wind and out of the rain,
drawn to the waves’ beat.
But the grey returns.
The raindrops
tap out eternity.
“Mortal,” whispers the wind.
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