The Beach

We were born with feet to carry our souls very much like the wind carries the water

Or the water carries the wind

Very much like the bottom of the sea carries the surface

And on the surface lies the self that is carried

These feet, which carry our souls, carry a purpose

A will, a need to be buried in the sand of which they were made

Perhaps that is why the salt in the sea does not eat our flesh

Or the hot sand that we step on does not set us on fire

For we all are results of sophisticated elements, which we carry within

Like birds flying south in search of a home

So do we, fly south, to search for a home

To search for the beach, the sand and salty ocean

Which carries the self on the surface

For there is no place like home other than feet buried in the sand

A melody of waves seducing our eardrums

Waves, that carry us home