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Wednesday, November 6, 2013

grain of sand


my spirit rolls around
like a tiny grain of sand
in an hour glass time piece
amidst many other grains of sand
being sieved down
tossed about uncontrolled
in tumult, tumbling closer, closer
to the vacuole, a ‘worm hole’,
caught in the eddy passing into
another plane then maybe a
deity’s hand shall grasp
the glass time piece, turn it over,
where this trip will begin again
 
 
believing what is to be true
or what is not
if not seen
even when seemingly clear
much like a grain of sand
entering from plane to plane
if there's absence of consciousness
it will matter not
and soon will be forgotten
so be here, now