A golden canvas,
Glittering, clean
From the moment we are born
It is there, waiting for us
But somehow we forgot
What the sand is for.

Lines
Drawn in the sand,
As children
They are the language
We once knew
Pieces of art
From a world beyond this one,
From a world between worlds.

Elegant lines
Meant to connect people,
And spread happiness,
Lines drawn with love.
Despite the wind
That sweeps across the sand
We draw the endless lines
We would not be discouraged.

Lines
Drawn in the sand
Of the hourglass,
Turn straight and rigid,
No longer the language
Of the world left behind
Now infected by the
Realm we now reside in.

Smooth, shaky lines
Now meant to separate people,
Designed to instill
A false sense of security,
Lines drawn in fear,
Yet trapped here in this glass
These lines seem
Permanent.

Lines in the sand
Amid shards of broken glass,
A flurry of new designs,
As our world begins to change
Into something beautiful and new
And we find our courage
To be who we were always
Meant to be.

Beautiful lines of
Spirals and flares
Meant to reach out
To a world
Full of life and purpose
As we embrace
The entirety of this person
We were born to be.

A golden canvas
Glittering, imperfect,
We cannot hope to reach
That purity of that original landscape,
But if we break that hourglass
If we have the courage to try,
We can regain
A small piece of that language
From the world
We all came from.