But Grains Of Sand
time liquid drips like bright pearl tears making hard rock weep.
fluxing elastic ever exponential moments, minutes, months, years
like eternities breathing outward its soft rhythm is our daily round.
a fluid trickle streams in flows vast vacant voids in dark spaced seas.
star strewn skies which blink with a tapestry of light
sparkling souls heavenward sent, that drift on solar oceans light years apart,
tethered by silken threads hand spun across universe.
in all the infinite velvet ages we are but grains of sand
which fall one by one to times relentless hand,
and death will come to end our days.
Saturday, September 26, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: life and death