The Grain You Left Behind

Why do you think, ten thousand miles away,

the sun will cast a diff’rent colored light

upon your birth, if all you see is gray?

Well, leave behind your old eyes, and it might.

It isn’t that the stars are all the same

from ev’ry mountaintop. The deserts’ sands

are not all just as sweet, nor is there shame

in tasting them, to sift them with your hands,

but rake the lot of sand upon the Earth

to find that single grain you miss alone,

in silence, late at night, that gives you worth—

you could have seen its glint and never known.

Run to the playground. Swing, and find it there.

Adventure in the sandbox, if you dare.