Every once in awhile, the poetry bug bites. This is one of those whiles…

Stars in the Sand

A starlit night transports us,
But infinity is small.
It’s the difference between a pinprick
And nothing at all.

A detail may vex or bore us,
But insignificance is great.
Within a grain of sand might lie
A universe, or eight.

What’s to come is icy silence,
What’s been, a comfort cold.
And in between, the present,
Where you and I unfold.

A moment is a lifetime,
If firmly held in hand.
It is the ocean in a thimble,
Stars in the sand.