Beverly Beach’s waves on calm days,
Appear to que up in a rhythmic line,
If one counted the waves in minutes,
Beachcombers could almost tell the time.
Yet on any given windy day,
The que surrenders to earthy forces.
Spindrift rides behind the waves,
On the Backs of wild horses.
Working Monday thru Fridays my entire life
Every long week was spent the same…
I lived my life solely for weekends,
Until Friday never came.
My schedule fell into a blender,
Forever shredded, spun and stirred,
The life I looked forward to living,
Never once again occurred.
Schedules can’t always be followed,
Calendars can’t guarantee dates…
Time and space are infinite
As the cosmos spins our fates.
None of us are special,
Or deserve to say, “Me first”!
None of us are anything more,
Than a speck in the universe.
