Footprints

There they are, my footprints. Visible proof of my existence of my mortality of being here. Yet in the blink of an eye, they are gone, no longer there. Erased by ceaseless waves, I am left once more not sure of where I am, or even if I am. Just as the ceaseless current of life carried you away but left me here. At times no more than a lonely set of footprints waiting to be erased, carried to where I know you wait.