The Great Hourglass

Every word a grain of sand.

Alone insignificant,

Together they find purpose.

Shaping reality,

Creating perception.

A hapless pile of sand embraces the ocean,

Where incensed the river

Meets the oceans salt.

Striving to have purpose,

They are pulled out on her currents,

To fill all the empty spaces.

Slowly burying and grinding

Away with what was.

The great hourglass flows on,

Each grain one part of the whole,

Longing to have meaning.

They are the tales of the victorious.

They are the forgotten,

Obscured by time.

They are hunted by men,

Established among cultures.

They are all that is.

When history becomes myth

Are her lessons diminished—

Whatever the mind can conceive they are.

The air, the water, the earth, the sun.

They are understanding.

They are truth,

They are a lie.

They reflect those minds that shape them.

They are a portrait of their soul.

They are man's greatest tool,

They can create.

They are mans greatest weapon,

They can destroy.

They are fact and fiction, they are change.

They touch everything

Yet they are nothing.

A mind to shape them,

A mouth to speak them,

A heart to hold them,

A life to live them.