Vacation

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It looms in a corner
The door ajar
I wonder what hinders it
Must be stones, sand and dust.

Polarised dreams
Cuddling bears 
Cracks and creases to fill
Memories to generate.

From dust, stones, sand by the door
To dust, stones, sand by the beach
All the blues ashore
Pounded by the waves.

The ripples and froth that surface
Washes the footprints away
People, events come and go

But the ocean is there to stay.

Note: Originally written on white paper I posted on the cabinet by my bedside. I was about to go on vacation.

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