Foreign Sand

Reverse the sands of time 

 and travel across the ocean

to a sandbox in China

an ocean away

grab a stick and draw in the sand 

Now flash forward 

 cross over the ocean

to a sandbox much smaller 

and within reach

What could be going through her mind

while she experiences this stark contrast?

I carefully watch her expression, 

she goes into a state of disconnect

 Containing my own emotion 

   I watch my little girl stand

contemplating 

foreign sand

My life is in a box,

Filled with sand.

Full of moments and instances,

That overflow through my hands.

Sometimes I question,

Why I live this kind of dream.

Where everything is chaos,

And madness is to every bit extreme.

My life is set on sand,

That sinks my feet.

It keeps me afloat everything else,

While burying monsters beneath.

Sometimes I wonder,

Why I settle for this kind of dream.

Where anything can happen,

Like my feet seeping through the streams.

My life is set in a sandbox,

Of familiar make.

It is my very own substance,

That nobody in the world can ever take.

Sometimes I query,

Why I settle for this kind of dream.

Where nothing is out of my reach,

Not even the unseen.