I hold to distant memories,
As I grasp a fist of sand,
The grains no longer structured,
Begin slipping through my hand.
Panic stealing over me,
Yesterdays wrenching from my hold.
Gripping precious memories,
As if they’re sealed in gold.
The sands continue falling,
Until at last just one remains.
A cherished heart of friendship,
Lies within it’s grain.
Held tightly in my fingertips,
Is this final grain of sand.
And I pray that for eternity,
It will sleep within my hand.