Hourglass (Poetry)
23rd March 2014
“To see a world in a grain of sand...” WILLIAM BLAKE
Sand has no concept of time
but measures it nonetheless
its dry gritty grains drop sublime
in their silver indifference
as they squeeze through the neck
of the glass
tumble where gravity leads
they run, heaping soft, spreading flat
pale minutes far-scattered like seeds.
Not one single crystal stands out
as different in colour or form
variation’s eroded away
they’re so almost-identically worn.
Like a crowd in a city they crush
shoulder their fellows aside
and jostle through life and through time
unaware of the desert inside.
Sand has no concept of time
but measures it nonetheless
its dry gritty grains drop sublime
in their silver indifference
as they squeeze through the neck
of the glass
tumble where gravity leads
they run, heaping soft, spreading flat
pale minutes far-scattered like seeds.
Not one single crystal stands out
as different in colour or form
variation’s eroded away
they’re so almost-identically worn.
Like a crowd in a city they crush
shoulder their fellows aside
and jostle through life and through time
unaware of the desert inside.