End
The whole idea of it makes me feel
Like I'm trying to hold sand.
I clench my hand tight.
Each grain falls.
We are grains of sand
On an unending beach.
The ocean washes us all away.
Like a sandcastle the human mind is beautiful,
But crumbles under the weight of infinity.
Life.
An unforgiving universe.
One day my father sat me down.
A beam of sunlight illuminating the darkness,
Specks of dust helplessly floating through.
Light drafts scattering them at random.
Nana died, he said.
I look to the dust.
Death.
A distant concept.
I held the world in my palm.
My oyster.
I, the pearl.
Fall.
Like dust.
Copyright © Stanley Hudson | Year Posted 2019
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