White Sand

I am like the sand.

The sand you walk on, the sand you dig in, the sand you build castles with.

Sometimes the sand makes the sea appear beautiful. White, pure sand makes the beach a paradise.

But no one really goes to the beach just to play on the shore. They go there to swim. They just stay on the shore to watch the others, wait, but eventually they will all leave.

I am not white and pure. Most of the time, the sand just mixes with the waves, causing the perception of a dirty water.

Perhaps I belong to that class. The contamination. The people came to see the beautiful ocean, the clear blue water, and I spoil it.

But these people only go to the beach to swim. When it’s dark and they’re tired, they will eventually leave.

But the sand, the sand that makes up the shore… The sand will always be there. No matter how harsh the waves may get, no matter how filthy the shore may be because of the swimmers. No matter how the sun will rise or set, how the clouds hover about or how the rain washes everything out. The sand will always be by the sea.

And they meet halfway, if you just care to notice. It’s not always the vague water, time will come when the sand will settle down onto the ocean floor, if we just wait.

But not all have patience.