Standing on Sunken Cities

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The shore was too quiet and we wanted adventure.

Because the orange of the sunrise and the sand slipping through fingers,

were slowly turning into routines,

Or so we thought. 


We upturned our intricate sand castles,

and rushed to the edge of the shore.

The waves slashed like knives against our toes,

and we thought, " Well, that feels cold."

For we were bored of warmth.

Or so we thought.


We set out for the riptide, one glorious morning.

We had the sun as  friend still...

Now here's the thing about leaving shores- 

There comes a point of no return.

And no matter what they teach about the circularity of life;

It is an endlessly stretching tightrope really.

Hence, despair set in ( As was inevitable)

We longed for mulberry sundowns, and easy breeze, and sand under our toes.

And warmth too.

With angry torrent swirling all around, it was a tough fight.

And of course we were defeated.

As our light-feather bodies hit the rock bottom in the sunken city,

We stood up

as we felt wet sand under our feet,

and warmth, as our fingers met.


Standing on sunken cities, 

We gave up adventure.




April 23, 2015

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