Russell G. Robison

THE SAND

As the hourglass grows empty
With the last grain marked ‘The End’
Wishing I could flip that glass
And make the sand again my friend

But that is not the way of things
Time waits for none you see
It is only with our spirit
We can know eternity

That is my Momma talking
How our spirit never dies
We cast this shell away
To let our spirit touch the skies