Echoes In The Sand Poem by Poet 1234567890

Step by step, I followed the footprints of my way,
Only to find the tide had kissed the shore,
Gently washing them away.
Soft impressions faded,
The earth beneath leveled
As time played its quiet role.

Deep, barely visible—perfect shapes,
Scars dissolved, detached, and mixed.
A jungle of prints stayed long,
Even after you left.
Some linger, some vanish,
And some leave scars in the sand.

I chased hazy prints
Never meant to follow,
Hoping they would lead me back—
But they never did.
I stood still,
Staring at the crystal-clear prints,
Lost for no reason,
Captivated by their silent echoes.

Retracing prints is like listening,
Hearing the story they whisper.
Every print has a story,
Every story has a beginning,
Every beginning finds an end.
Every story shapes a character,
And every character follows an arc.

Then, we stop looking at the prints.
We create a new path,
A set of footprints, born anew.
Not all who leave footprints
Dream of retracing the path.
Sometimes, we follow random prints
That lead to places we never knew.
Sometimes, we end up
In places we never meant to stay.

But in the end—
The tide always has its final say.
Time and tide play their roles,
Washing away the old.
And yet, the place...
The place remains the same.