The day will come,
Because it eventually has to,
When all the business filling your life,
The one you’ve grabbed hold of all these days,
Until the backwash of nights finally make you succumb to sleep,
Will no longer be.
You will be carried away by the waves
As far as the horizon, without a floating plank to grip.
Only decomposing pieces of wood and your hand passing through.
This is why you need to get to the beach, now.
There, you will teach your hands to rest on your knees
You will teach yourself to listen
To the wind and the lapping,
To the roar of rollers, rising and falling,
As waves die at your feet.
You’ll learn to let the thread of your breath
Dance over and under the fabric of time
Franck Joseph
©FJ Sept. 2021 – All Rights Reserved
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Notes & Silence 