Beach sifting through my hand,
Flowing, streaming, gathering gravity settling in the sand;
Thought and mood changes from grain to grain.
Perils and adventures, rising and falling again and again,
From one position to the next, as all things change
From false to truth- as a true soul steadily remains
In each sunset, in each full moon, in each new sunrise,
I Become the sand released from my hand, rolling and anchoring myself
In each changing tide.
Photo: Google images