There is this moment when the distractions end.
Where the page is crystal clear
With nothingness.
A brief blank polaroid
Of Life.
We all love in this mess,
We all create ourselves
Basked in sunlight we photosyntheise a person
A being that is naturally inclined to want to care
To dream that beyond the all that we see
There is the ability to connect
To further all for naught.
Then the page burns up
Like a parched drought laden forest
In its threat to totally disappear.
Eventually consumed by crystal clear surf
And washed away.
Leave only your worries,
Take only your memories.
Peace.
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