There is some sand on a beach.
Somehow thoughts to them now reach.
Are you a grain of this sand?
One of many on this land?
Souls who walk upon this earth?
Each with yearnings held since birth?
Getting tossed in the breeze?
And cast aside with such ease?
As rolling waves hit the shore.
Telling us of something more.
Quite a beating led to now.
Moving forward yet somehow.
On this nonsense, can there be meaning?
As we endure nature’s demeaning?
Can there be a greater glory,
Than the unfolding of this story?
You’re a source, you are a one.
Of creation, never done.
Many countless unborn souls,
Will live and breathe what you behold.
Walking softly on your path,
With concerns about the math.
Holding infinite affects,
Of the sources you reflect.
Of course, you might be one of many,
But just like you there aren’t any.
Why not embrace this uniqueness?
Carry it forth with a meekness.
Of one who can do some damage,
Who instead chooses to manage.
And discover that one thing.
Brilliance only you can bring.
It’s a life’s work just to find.
How this being is defined.
Struggle and pain as you will.
Challenges portend to kill.
The point of pain, the point of action.
This center of your mind’s abstraction.
Grain of sand tossed unfairly.
Humanity is still quite early.
Where it goes cannot be charted.
Seems our journey has just started.
© 2019 TheRememberings Ltd.