The sands of time slip soft and slow,
Through unseen hands that never show.
They whisper truths the clocks can’t tell,
In silent drift, they weave their spell.
Each grain a moment, born then gone,
A sunrise blinked, a fleeting song.
A laugh, a tear, a passing face—
All vanish with the desert’s grace.
No hand can halt their endless flow,
No wall can make the hourglass slow.
Yet in their fall, a lesson gleams:
To live, to love, to chase our dreams.
For though the tide may bury deep,
What matters most, the soul will keep.
The sands may shift, the winds may stray,
But footprints last in their own way.
So walk with purpose, hold the flame,
And leave behind more than a name.
For time may take, but can’t erase
A life once lived with depth and grace.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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