Bring the dark. Let a steady curtain of water swallow the universe up. Let the seagulls hunker down, the tourists, pink and yellow pin-points, standing tentative far from the sea-mouth move away until there are no people, just the steady acceptance of sand receiving ocean.
Isn’t it time that sand gave back to sea?
Enough. Let there be such darkness that my eyelids long to open up clouds, struggling off silt in the memory of mind. Let there be the soft dark, the relentless patter of elements that don’t give in to human yearning. Let there be sounds more enduring than thunder.
Let there be rain.
My skin can drink the sky, my lungs won’t matter. I am not components but a part of the tree and earth and world that grind under the weight of human burden. We are destroyed, each of us, demolished by an onslaught of needing home.
Give out to the rain.
To the dark. To the tender comfort of being a good thing that nonetheless erodes.