Wandering Thoughts of a Postmodernist

A Poem By Hannah D. // 8/15/2013

One
grain
of sand
not
a single
angle
on its
face
minute creatures
could see through it
like glass.
 
It dropt
from my hand
and disappeared into anonymity
amidst innumerable grains of gold.
It was unique, perhaps, but now it is only
an atom on a single rippling sheet
tossed by the whim of the waves
pounded, shaped and swept
thro' unimaginable depths of gloom
then winding around the feet of stony, towering cliffs
barren but nearer the sun
only to be taken away
to the dry shore
again.
 
Sometimes
it creeps
into me
that I
am nothing more
than
one
grain
of sand.

Comments

Best poetry of the past few months

My mouth dropped open when I got your very true message in the last line. The rhythm and how you separated the words = very, great job! Could never write like that. :)

Lucy Anne | Sat, 08/24/2013

"It is not the length of life, but the depth of life." Ralph Waldo Emerson

: )

You are so sweet! I was nervous about posting poetry so thank you so much!

Hannah D. | Sat, 08/24/2013

"Reason itself is a matter of faith. It is an act of faith to assert that our thoughts have any relation to reality at all." - G. K. Chesterton