the hourglass



Fingers splayed and palms upturned,
Through the spaces fall
All that was being poured.

Crystal no longer sparkles
Now in the paling light,
Casting long weary shadows.

Caught in tufts of cloud
That burn eyes red, again
Puddled with salty tears.

Bouncing off the glass walls
And splashing high, before
Making shallow pools.

Even the moon is hiding,
Reflecting only a slither
Of the suns eternal light.

Around the loneliest soul,
Where solitude at some point
Seek honesty in connections.

Cracking open spaces,
Where origins hid inside
The crevasses above distortion.

And not far below ,
Rivers of experience lay calm
Under the inundation.

The open hand seems to be
An unwilling receptacle,
But loves undercurrent remains.

The moonlight and sparkle return,
Drying tear stained cheeks
And puddles evaporate.

Hands clasped tighter now,
To hold back the sand
Slipping quickly down the hourglass.

And for want of better moments,
Moods gamble with each other,
Grasping at all deemed worthy.

Ria 2016