Ephemerality

As ships sail the seas,

Above and below,

I sit with the sun on my back,

And my toes in the sand,

Alone and thinking,

About the vastness of perception,

This dream that I live in,

Nothing real,

Nothing fake,

Nothing lasting,

Just being,

For a certain amount of time,

Do the eagles that circle above,

Know about the madness of it,

Do the ants in the ground,

Know about the madness of it,

Do the kids playing in the water,

Know about the madness of it,

An old man sits on a broken wooden sala,

Cracked lines in his wind whipped face,

Tell the story of his 80 years in this place,

He turns his head and smiles at me,

A wide toothless grin,

And I think,

He knows the madness of it,

A young Muslim couple sneak from the crowd,

To secretly lavish each other in love,

That their religion doesn’t allow,

But,

They know the madness of it,

And as I sit sentient in the sand,

I wonder what will become of us all,

In this pantomime we call life.

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