Wisdom watches the flowing sands,
Abiding within this container,
Turning over with each repetition
Of timeliness and completion;
Impressive by the hour,
Leaving indelible traces.
Yet these wisdom marks
Are best left to the books,
Where they contain and sustain,
And something resembling
A touch on my mind can be
Brought forth.
But I break from the glass,
No longer drowned in the sands;
I am gone from the bindings.
I break because I must… I can--
For wisdom is only a stepping stone
To this human life.
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