SAND SAILOR

From the moment of self-realization, the waters vanished. Now all that is in abundance is the soil beneath, no aquarium to admire or feed on anymore. Just the unresourceful and creative me, wanting to be wet again. My feet feel the dirt on the ground, stunned that this was down there all along. The winds were once a comfort that I'll sail further, but now just a reminder that the journey never begun. I was accustomed to a full belly, but now I drool at the dead jelly. I wish I had never got in the boat, but now it's too late to turn back. I can't erase the path I was on, so I'll have to move on. Better late than never, now I'll stick to my lane forever. I can sail in the sea no more, so I'll have to be a sand sailor. Till I find my destined water, the soggy sand is my solace.