_{(a poem from earlier this summer)}

We played with kinetic sand.
Molding it.
Digging it.
Shaping it.

The lighting gave it dimension. Our imaginations gave it life.
For a moment there was nothing else in the world but our smiles and our fingers
deep in the grit. Terrains on our tips.
A universe under our nails.

We were gods.
Moving mountains.
Draining rivers.
Making it rain.

Our eyes met over our creations and destructions. A twinkle. A crinkle. Lightning quick, the spark.

Spark of joy. Still there, taking new shape.
Spark of life. Bold and brave, taking a new path.
Spark of fear. Too good to be true.

Don’t make eye contact. Come at it sideways. Head down and humble.

Even gods need to practice gratitude.