Grain of sand
Oct 16, 2021
1 min read
Passing On
A poem
Each day is a grain of salt
in an hourglass
trickling down
one
by
one
As the space once occupied by one, being replaced
by another
and another,
and then emptiness.
Just like a handful of sand
slipping through the fingers,
no matter how much held tightly,
still leaving the fist empty
sooner or later.
Like steps into a forest,
each one,
taking us away from one to,
the other end,
leaving no trace,
no sign,
that we were here,
that we passed.
Like the twinkling stars,
disappearing one by one
as the sun rises
the invisible hand
wiping the sky off all the traces of the stars,
ready to rewrite another story, of another day,
and life goes on,
even after we pass on,
and the world goes on.
Oh, yes, without us!
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