Tracks in sand

I walk the mile hoping to make a mark. I put my foot firmly on the ground and mark my step in sands of time. Looking ahead I see many tracks that once stood out proudly disappearing into the sandy canvas just as the steps behind me have started to disappear. The tracks of a child, old woman and the dog walking beside her all disappear with one large wave. Looking at them, I wonder why do we struggle to make a mark in life? Isn't it futile when all will be forgotten in a few years. What is it that we strive for? What endures the life and the death thereafter? I ask people, preachers and scriptures only to be smiled at. Some tell me it may be the wealth that we earn. Some tell me its the respect we get from others. When gently reminded of the forgotten heros of yesteryears, ruins of once majestic palaces, unknown heros of wars of life they look at me in a strange way, their eyes full of pity for my confusion. I smile at them and myself before walking away.
A learned one told me it may be the goodness within that we yearn for. I ask him, what remains beyond this duality: happiness and sorrow, good and bad; life and death. He stares at me and says don't let your mind wander too much.
Dont ask me for I dont know either. Probably the silence between the conversations and thoughts will provide the answer. I am still trying to listen.
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