Fading Memorie

Like ocean waves, one fades as another overtakes it.
The first is wiped forever from the Earth.

Waves live in momentary glory; they are all to be consumed by the next
of their kind.

Small waves, Large Waves, Beautiful Waves, Weak Waves, Strong Waves,
Meek Waves, Fierce waves, Forceful waves --they each evaporate into
momentum dumped onto the sands and time.

When gone, no one remembers one of them that existed, and no one may;
for, there are too many for any one of them to be unique. They are
each too uniform in their difference, too similar in their chaotic
movement.

Waves are more numerous than the tiny grains of sand on a beach; yet,
however incredibly larger than the discreet granules, they are ever
more fleeting.

Beautiful while they exist, they retreat more quickly into obscurity;
dissovling back into the fabric of the ocean from whence the came;
losing all detail, all content, all individuality.

Waves are born. Waves journey, Waves die. It is the way; of ocean, of
memory, of life.

-Salvatore Labaro