Shells and stones and ancient bones

(Pre-Script: This post best read as the song, " The Scientist," #42 on the playlist, plays in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...)(...still waiting...)

Shells and stones and ancient bones
are scattered at my feet;
A whispered roar of memory
from deep within the deep;
Once inside a body strong
that navigated waves,
and calculated distant shores,
and thought of me as brave.
The water numbs, then chills the soul,
all murky down below.
The sun, too bright to look upon,
still blinding in it's glow,
reflects off of her surfaces;
bakes sand midafternoon;
that burns the barefoot bottom feet,
and then is gone too soon.
While all around, the stones of bones,
their stories left to chance,
dried out, washed clean, these shells of our
haphazard remembrance.

-XOXO,