Never Still
I turn the corner and start slowly down the old worn waving boardwalk. I look down and many planks have names carved in the middle of them. Some have mini plaques mounted on the side with loving words for those who’ve past more than a few decades ago. I feel like I’m walking through time, curious about all these lives I haven’t lived and never knew. I wonder what this place was like when their names weren’t carved into the wood under my feet.
At the dock, I look out over the water rippling, just like the boardwalk. Never still.
Everything is always in motion. It may seem like things stop, but they don’t really. It’s constant transition. If you follow someone’s last breath out of their mouth, the molecules keep going out into the air. The air we breathe is just borrowed. Pieces of us are everywhere. The same goes for those who have past. A name carved into the boardwalk is just a reminder that for a while, molecules were arranged beautifully in a specific shape we grew to know and love, animated by something we don’t understand. They didn’t go anywhere. They went everywhere. We were lucky enough to share part of the human experience with them for a while.
And then we all go on. Never still.
