I bring some happiness to the fray,
but here is the tide,
and here is the day, ebbing too.
Shadows beneath my feet. Growing and spreading.
A setting sun. The last of a waffle cone.
Salt air. A breeze that cares only for some quiet, some rest.
It swirls around my ears, and I get chills,
the first of the afternoon.
Thoughts are like waves.
What else is there?
A given perspective is always unique,
provided that the soul gives itself to the moment totally.
The realm is complete as is.
Metaphysics is only a lie to those who have become
like black holes, self-consuming, blind, perspective-less.
I bring some happiness to the fray;
and here is the tide,
and here is the day, now a squishy, cool, gritty memory
between my toes.