Can you feel the gentle pull
as we begin to drift the day away?
Floating
down
without
a care
and just see them glitter,
pretty
diamonds
scattered
by the sun, as they dance, ballerinas—
what a sight to behold!

We float on and become seasoned
learning the twists
and turns of the
curving path
after trav'ling so long;
it's second nature now.
I learn to love
the weakened
glow of the diamonds
like fading fireflies—
it's my favorite part—

until we reach the rocks
and meet the white foam
angered by our regrets, tired
after trav'ling so long—
Where are those pretty diamonds?
I can't seem to remember them—
until we're swept away,
never to be heard from
again—