Grains of Time

I thought I had lost my spark
my need to create
as the rain beat down
on dirty window panes
and one day melted into the next.
I drifted from week to week
never stopping to savor this.
This one last vacation
one last pit stop on my journey
to true adulthood.
There has been something so mindless
in these faded days
that seem to have been hung
worn and tired to dry on a clothesline.
And now I find myself catching my breath
on a cool evening
looking up at the blue blue sky
wondering where all the wasted minutes go
when I refuse to acknowledge their existence.
And as I wash ashore
onto the sandy beach I realize
they are the grain which slipped through my hands.
Well no more.
I take them and mix them into paint
to paint sunsets in the back yard
adding them to the green
of freshly mowed grass.
Sprinkling them on the flowers in the garden.
Breathing them in like exotic oils
as I begin to dream once more
while the moon rises solemnly
in a deep ocean of night.