It lies on the shores as a single body
Yet flies as individual particles
When kicked into the air in a
Blinding cloud of chaos.
It seeks to fill the spaces
Between your fingers
Fitting perfectly like a socket and plug
Moulded especially for the spark.
It scatters into the air
If you hold it too loosely
Or grasp too forcefully
And takes time to find again.
It trickles down the hourglass
Measuring out our lives
By its grains, fine or coarse,
Much or little.
Proud sandcastles stand
Only as firm as their foundation.
Unless knocked over
Before their time.
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