The movement of time

Walking by the winding sea,

My self-consciousness blinded by meditation,

I can feel the movement of time

Lapping ineffectually against my soul.

Days are like letters to an unknown lover

Days are like letters to an unknown lover.
A spread of photographs moving
To the beat of of an Inaudible heart rhythm.
Every day, the grass on roads
Is being stepped down.
Every night, the rain makes it grow back again.
Time is a flower listening to a voice in the ground
Telling it to move upwards.