The sun breathes light into the rippled water—reflections of past swirl beneath, creating whirlpools. While the wind whirls, mixing the future and the present. Here there’s history, a past, that no one knows. Secrets and time are kept between the sun and the water. But sometimes, in moments like this, I hear the past reminding me not to forget the reflection I once saw. But by sunset, the reflections disappear. There are no more ripples or swirls.
Instead, there’s darkness. It’s inevitable when we forget who we are or what we were. But tomorrow, the sun will reappear, and I’ll try again. I’ll try to remember who she once was and her dreams. Maybe then the sun will never leave.
Sarah's Blog 