One
grain
of sand
not
a single
angle
on its
face
minute creatures
could see through it
like glass.
 
It dropt
from my hand
and disappeared into anonymity
amidst innumerable grains of gold.
It was unique, perhaps, but now it is only
an atom on a single rippling sheet
tossed by the whim of the waves
pounded, shaped and swept
thro' unimaginable depths of gloom
then winding around the feet of stony, towering cliffs
barren but nearer the sun
only to be taken away
to the dry shore
again.
 
Sometimes
it creeps
into me
that I
am nothing more
than
one
grain
of sand.