Slow Decay

Gales of Wind howling, clashing with mounds of rough rock
a formidable resistance
bisecting and chaffing the mighty waves
an eerie silence coupling its destruction.

An irrevocable force of nature,
a change-maker.
The Wind is unparalleled in its lack of mercy
Relentless in its path, possessing
the waves to do its bidding.

The Wind inquires in a moment of curiosity
to the hapless stones,
Why is it that you do not resist my force.
The Stone responds, reverently,
the supremacy of the wind in enabling its transformation.

It is you who synchronizes,
aligns me, with Nature.
Smoothing my lofty edges
to serve till I perish as a grain of Sand.

Nature is unyielding in death,
Yet even as a grain of Sand
I carry impressions that are rewritten because of you.
And in those footprints is preserved
the transience of Time, eternally
the shiftiness of the birth and death of spirit.

- of mindlessness and ceaseless adaptation