September 2000

I sift my fingers through the sand.
Covering my hand, small and soft
A precious grain.

I started to think of you
And somehow associated my feelings with sand.
Sand, the small minute grains of ….sand
And as a collective a massive creature who could 
Pull you into the earth and swallow you whole.
Maybe not you in particular…perhaps the love I feel
And make you feel in general.

I thought of how ordinary sand can be,
As people are.
I thought of the examination of one small grain 
And saw how absolutely complex and different the grain was to others.
It reminded me of you.

I thought of what sand could be… and suddenly
This small minuscule grain became my world.
Like the love that was made and created from this grain, 
Bonding with the other grains, 
A delicate beautiful crystal like glass was formed.
Seeming solid and sturdy but all too deceptive in appearance.

For this glass, like love was deemed extremely precious, 
Very sacred and likewise very valuable.
Only time can help its bonds become stronger,
To withstand any weather.
Let it grow.
Please let it grow, my sand, my love.