The Hands

The Hands, 2002

The first moment of our life,
dropped as a speck of sand—
from an hourglass over turned by
unknown hands.
Drop by drop the pebbles fall forever;
we are grains amidst the strands.

Not always was the dying world so bad;
not always did man speak of have and had.
They place their bets, collect their chips,
and laugh.
They laugh until they see the hands.

No one saw the pebble fall,
and no one wondered why,
the grain of sand,
from unknown hands,
looked at our blue dot passing by.

Earth shrinks in the distance,
as another dot to pass.
From nothing into something,
so runs the hourglass.

It keeps on dripping, drop by drop,
moments forever fall.
They never stop, and never stall;
just smile and watch them fall.
With one stack on another,
so many piles of sand.
They lay together in their dreams,
and far away hold hands.

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