With every whisper of a second, we are losing a little bit of ourselves. And the wind that touches our skin doesn’t go back as empty as it came. It is us that it’s drinking, our power, our life – those beautiful, cold things, those minutes and winds.
We think we have an eternity of them. But they don’t have an eternity of us. And one day, the last of our breaths will fade into the air and the last of this life will be lost to the past. Then the seconds and winds will rush past, as ever, empty in place of our little selves it hath so long carried away in its arms, little by little.
When we say we shape the Earth, hadn’t the Earth been long shaped by forces ever unknowable to us – water and wind, and fire and time, and infinity and mystery, that silently rule our small lives?
And today we dance, and today we screech, we write our stories in ink and history, build our lives in marble and dreams; we flood the Earth with ideas, we light the wild flames of revolutions; But today we dance, and today we screech… and today we live and tomorrow we die.
And we don’t, as we think, impact the Earth. We don’t leave behind our marks in the soil or spread love to the unknown distances of infinity. For the Earth has lived an infinite lives before us, and will live to count the unknown vastness of infinity. And all the small things that we call lifeless – all the silent air and ocean and sand that we seek to conquer – are the ones that live timelessly.
And so, sometimes it scares me, how inconsequential we humans are. No matter what we do, we could never be a part of this world.
All we are is only a part of today, and yesterday, and tomorrow. And another tomorrow. A few more tomorrows than yesterdays.
But soon, a time must come when all we are will be a today, and a lot of vanished yesterdays; again until that today becomes a yesterday. Then the last of us will begin its descent into the long trenches of the past. And one day, even that past would vanish from the world’s memory, and all that would be left of us will be dust and nothing.
In the end, we are all only forgotten dances.
So smile at the pink-purple twilights and inky-blue waves drawn by the moon. One day, you and I and they are going to wash away with the same sand and sea. And isn’t there something comforting in knowing that we need not dance this dance for all too long? For no matter what, in the end, the only thing true about us is that we are eternally ephemeral.
And the only things that we will ever be is only forgotten dances.
(Image credits: Pinterest)
© 2018 Sahana Narendran