The Hourglass

Standard

My job is simple
I wake up and grab a spoon
after downing my shredded wheat
I wipe the spoon clean
and step outside
in front of me is an expanse of sand
I bend down
dig in my spoon
and gather it up
moving it to the giant
hourglass
behind my house
one teaspoon at a time
I move an ocean of sand
months on end
I pour into the hourglass
Until one day it is full
and the god I have constructed
knocks it over
and points to a new timepiece
and I grab my spoon
and begin my journey once more

But at night when the rain clinks on my roof
I look out and I wonder
What if this dry, grainy mission
was my own invention?
And I dream of a God who calls me to
Play with him on the beach
Instead of hauling sand all day
And I wonder if there’s more truth
in my dream than my reality.

 

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