Sand

 

 

We are just the sand

flowing through

an hourglass,

time may pass

but sometimes it feels like

the hands of the clock

are spinning too fast.

You need to relax

and let the words amass.

 

We are the sand

that trickles,

flowing particles

of forever.

Ticking over

past endeavours.

We are hands

that turn,

in circular motion,

our hopes dreams

and emotions

continually revisited,

when the hands

reach out again.

 

We are the artists,

and writers,

actors and painters.

We don’t live on schedules,

created to contain us.

We don’t always

tick the right box.

We don't follow clocks,

nor circle our eyes

to the hands that tock.

Sometimes we chime,

others a silent alarm

goes off.

 

We are sundials

on a moonless night,

shadows creeping 

over the surface,

but not giving the time.

We are the hands

that twist and turn

at midnight,

just to add another

hour of fright.

We create

the world we see,

in vivid imagery

and artistry.

 

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"

100+ all new poems not shared here before.

https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle