A budding writer's collection

On The Shoreline

I've never sat on the edge of land,
I have, but not in a long, long time.
The embrace of the warm sand,
The waves that feel like a rub on the back,
A sigh let out—I'm here again.

Why does a shoreline enchant me so?
Some say it's because the sea has its own stars
For me, it's the fresh slate that it embodies,
Water that jumps out each time,
To erase footprints and shatter sand castles.

It's the impermanence and ephemerality,
A shoreline is like life, or how I wish life would be
But don't we all long for ephemerality,
When time places us in a dark room?
And the second the sun is pleasant and orange,
We shield our sandcastles and create new footprints.

Right now, I'm in a limbo,
Sandcastles housing everyone anchoring me to the land,
Footprints that I'm trying to preserve,
They live alongside the topsy-turvy castle of the past,
And the darkened, adamant footprints
Holding onto pools of water.

Where am I, indeed?
Who am I?
Who am I trying to be?
These waters answer, just the same,
Lashing out to erase bits of past.