You are a grain of sand. Once you were part of a greater whole but you have been reduced now to something more basic, something closer to your essence. Once you were, perhaps, part of a boulder or a mountain and you stood apart from the world in a form that was distinct and recognizable.
You possessed a quality of greatness, of majesty. Or so you believed. But here you are, numbered now among the grains of sand that blow, accumulate, form barriers, smaller mountains, and that flow, continuously from one form to the next.
Other forms may take root in you. You may bind together with others of your kind. Moisture may hold you together, for a time. Time. A quality of light, a function of vision. Our perception of time is relative to the rate of visual change. Movement. The hands of clocks, the color of leaves, the transit of clouds, the course of the nearest star as it passes through the sky.
The ticking off of nows. A sequence of nows becoming thens. Tick-tock; tick-tock. Now-then; now-then. Time; the recognition and anticipation of thens. Memory; a collected narrative of thens.
Who are we but thens? We are grains of sand. Then a mountain, now a granule of silica. Atoms instead of Adams. And you should laugh. You should smile in the joy of it. You are nothing and you are everything and your troubles will not last. Remember you are sand.
o O o