Waves

I woke up to the sound of waves. 

There was no light, nothing but air around me; 

and the waves. 

Pounding, beating, surging against the shore, 

relentlessly thrashing and erasing the marks in the sand. 

I was being tossed upon them, though not touching them; 

hovering, watching from above, 

feeling each wave shift something inside of me with every surge. 

It was changing me, yet it didn’t feel unnatural. 

The water was below me, 

around me,

 inside of me.

 It was every part of me and everything that I was not. 

The waves were my anchor, harnessing my body to the ground, 

then releasing me into the air with each swell of the water. 

They were me, and I was them. 

We were the same, yet nothing at all. 

For who bothers to count the waves as they come ashore? Who ever notices 

the silent cry for help each one of them sends as they smash relentlessly 

against the shore? Who cares to notice that they are even there at all, 

that they each mean something? 

No one. Except me. 

For they are me and I am them. 

Alone, forgotten, considered the same as all the ones who came before me. 

No one will ever notice that I am here, nor care if they do. 

I am just a wave, 

something to be regarded for a moment, then tossed aside as a meaningless, 

temporary piece of nature. 

For just like a wave I will soon be gone. I will disappear out of this life 

as easily as a wave fizzles out on the shore, never to be thought of again. 

No one will cry for me or remember the good times we spent together. 

No one will name children after me or put aside the differences that we had in life. 

No one, except for the waves. 

For they are me, and I am them. 

Churning, raging, roaring. 

Then crashing, spraying, and dissipating. 

And then? 

No one knows. 

Except for the waves. 

For I am them and they are me. 

Alone, forgotten, and forever gone. 

For who ever remembers a wave?