Photo by Gif Frame on Unsplash

A frustrated hourglass, stiff and fragile:
the sand slips through grain by grain.
They slip through smoothly, time still passes:
its curved body cannot contain.

The glass bends inward to grasp each grain
as sand dances through its open hand.
Each crystal falls like precious rain
the sand so fine flows on like time.

A lonely hourglass has lost its last:
an empty peace so calm and still.
The desperate pain left nothingness,
but the glass is turned and so the sand will spill.

Poet; writer of imaginative fiction; lover of works of ancient wisdom and myth, explores the intersection of wisdom, poetry and imagination. Follow @CaelanRowan

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