Because even a great wave must ebb.
The churning of our memories as well must pass
The gathering of old thoughts and prayers perhaps
Are what we cling to, our remaining essence,
that with the tide seem to enjoy brevity.

Memories, as our dreams, fade from color to black and white.
Animation becomes slow
and words that once sat at the edge of our thoughts struggle to be heard at all
But why work so hard to prevent what is inevitable?
Why stop a wheel from spinning?
What is meant to be, is meant to be.

But waves are not a relative object
They are swift with their motions, flawless
They move precisely with or without hindrance
With the matter of life, we cannot predict
There is no constant motion like flame or water
The options stray far from black or white, wrong or right

In a life where consistency is not expected
A wave seems a delicate thought
Back and forth back and forth
Fluidity, these days, is all we can trust
Because even a great wave must ebb.