My Sea to Your Shore

Like sea to the shore.

High tide, low tide.

Up close. Far away.

Ebb and flow.

Love is knowing that there are bright days and dark nights.

Love is knowing that oceans exist because there are shores.

Impermanence 

Take out the flowers

Throw out the dirty water

Rinse out the vase

Put it away

René Ricard (1979-1980)
Everyday is a new day.
How cliché. How true.

Except I dried those flowers and locked them in a state of semi-permanence.

Cherry blossoms and its impermanence are a cruel but beautiful reminder of how fickle, fragile and finite our emotions can be. As we watch them wilt and scatter, we stand and gaze with the hope of seeing the same beauty and magnificence again one day. We cannot do the same for certain things in life. 

This René Ricard poem. Its brutal simplicity speaks such truth.

A mundane act of cleaning out a vase could hold such significance.

Either that, or I am being overly dramatic and sensitive these days. Fucking hormones. And general exhaustion.