FORTY THREE : Sands of time

Have you ever really,

tried to hold smoke in your hands?

Or maybe sand?

Felt helpless,

as every grain,

slipped away,



And each wisp,

vanished without trace.



Some days, and milestones,

gone forever,

In years, months, weeks, days, hours?



While you sit,

and fathom,

some deep set recess,

from ages back.



Have you ever really,

tried holding your love in your mind?

Or maybe memories?

Felt helpless?



When you know.

That every grain will ultimately,

Slip away.