Antique Christmas

A Poem by MaybeDreams37

For my grandfather. December 23, 2013.

Time
A concept or naught but the human mind
A drop in the ocean of eternity
A grain of sand on the beach we must all walk upon for a step, or a mile, or a lifetime
We don't see many faces, but when we do, it's sunrise.

Tide
We rise and fall with the moon
We phase in and out of "maybe", and above and below "I should have"
We wait to be washed away, but once we are, we always find ourselves back at the shore:
A ray of light connected to every other part of the sun- burning our smile into the backs of strangers.

Time
A storm in our memories, too harsh to bear
But we set sail anyway...
Fearless. Breezy. Fleeting.