With passing years,
we sorrow over many things,
but it’s the the time
spent on sandcastles
we should mourn the most.
Delicate creations
crafted with care,
decorated with treasures
found freely,
artistry married to simplicity,
the afternoon care-free.
Time well-spent defending
a dream
against the scheduled rise
of the sea.
Sure, colanders will collapse
effortlessly against the shoulder
of the highest wave,
but these tragic moments
solve life’s greatest mysteries,
for there is nothing more
important to miss
than the hours spent
creating something
as truthful and temporal as this.
Even though their beauty
be but momentarily appreciated,
even though their adornments
be in truth broken homes,
the sandcastle’s worth remains
immeasurable;
their predestined presence
wrought with purpose
that for our own existences,
we might never own
nor believe.
And when we find ourselves
considering our lives as casualties,
these fragile, fought-for castles
remind us that it’s just enough to be.
We should not dismay nor worry,
Nor wish for time’s tide to hurry,
but remember the sandcastle’s powers:
to live in the minutes and not the hours.
© 2022 | K.Hartless
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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