Sand

Life does not float on the wings of a fluttering bird

Nor under from shelter of a rainy breeze

Sundering the existence, the wisp of protoplasm

Untamable soul like the waves of the sea

Bound by the very mysteries of the deep

Demanding its presence amongst the trillions

Of the rocks, of the weeds, of the shore

A tiny sea lace wielding for aberrations

An inscrutable reason unknown to all

For as to why, and how, and from what

A sea bird has come to call, out in the sky

All glorious wisdom has not been shut

A man searching for his elusive white beacon

In all its madness, derisions, and false hopes

An elusive truth that cannot be caught

Streaming like water over the cliffs

Count the sand as it streams through fingers

Each just as significant in reason as the last

Catching the sun’s rays in smiling gesture

Every grain has its place here with man

Take a moment to solder and  light

With the electricity of thought and wonder

Watch the fractured truths spill together

To see out a clear window made of glass