Grip tightly, human nature shouts in fearful demandwhat if the wind blows everything away?
there would be no more grains left to share
yet the quiet voice whispers
human hands can never grip grains of sand
the cracks in between fingers,
can anyone carry a fistful without losing a single grain?
so why not let it be
hands Divine that decide
if the winds should blow
or if the ocean should be still
may it always be
that it's never self seeking
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