Sun Dewed Evening

My feet that touch grass feel wet and cold.
The moisture that follows my body feels strangely familiar.
The texture of earth sticks to me like a memory once forgotten.
Why am I here? For what purpose?
These questions come and go like the swift breeze.
My body is losing its footing, yet the earth grounds me.
The bloom of flowers ever radiant, washing my daze away.
I am no longer near grass, but rather stranded in sea,
with water as far as the eye can see.
The piercing rays of sun feel hot and menacing,
but the water surrounds me, giving me shelter from its tyranny.
I raise my hand at the sun and try to capture it.
But I am no longer in the sea, but at the garden again.
The things I felt and saw — they escape me now.
Whether they were real or illusion, left incalculable.
Yet the ground anchors me to myself, and the moisture feels good.