Like a droplet in a river we travel. No clue of direction.
Yet we ever flow through the path carved out of us by an entity unknown.
Slowly we reach, yet unaware of it, to our destination.
Then we fall, by the millions unto the next flow of life.

Wandering through the days, searching for our fulfillment.
Upon the day we find the object that has no limits.
To describe the object would require the observer to see it’s entire life. Yet the object does not discriminate and absorbs time.
Slowly it fades from reality.
Until the memory confuses fantasy for reality.

Tiptoe.
Heel to sole.
Closer and warmer.
Tongue against palate.
Tongue against teeth.
Air slips in between lips...
word for word.
Mumbling and muttering…
Hands are shaken.
Heads are nodding.
Backs are bending.
Tiptoe.
Sole to heel.
Distant and cold.