Floating And Drifting Away
Looking at the ocean pulling the rush of waves,
by Jose 'Pepe' Carrascal
it is as if looking at a dying man
drawing his last might to breathe
from the deep heaving of chest.
The rest of the world seems sleeping
as the shore lies waiting still
for every coming and receding of tides;
as pillows and mattresses silently absorb shed tears.
All the height of waves collapses at the shore.
The thing you drew fumbles and tumbles all.
Until the water recedes far off the familiar line
of castles and footprints and dried shells on the sand.
When does one decides to slip away
from keeping the reason to stay?
When does rising and falling of heartbeat is satisfied?
To release and detach from it all with a fulfilled smile.
03.May.2005, Panay Ave, QC, Phil.