a carrier of many grains of sand

As the sand of my time began its trickle,
So I came to be
I was a happy child,
Playing with grains of sand,
Rustling softly as they fell.

Until one day it was no longer enough,
And I began to ask. And kept on asking.
Until a path has opened before me, full of light.

But I was weak and fearful,
And didn't realize how important it was,
Not the path itself,
But the moment of choice.
And so I turned away and didn't take it.

Years later, here I was, crying
Because life was no longer what I thought it should be,
And the sand of time was now falling heavy.

I searched and searched in vain for that forgotten path
But when I found it, it was cold and empty.
And as I walked a couple of miles on it,
It disappeared.

More years have passed
More sand has fallen down and drifted away.
Again I asked
And kept on asking
And cried
And asked again.

Until another path revealed itself to me.

No longer do I see the glorious bright light
Instead, it's lined with thorns and flowers
And littered with strange foreboding objects
Alerting one to mystery and danger.

Yet, it is broader path, and well defined
And I can better see what lies ahead.

But of course I don't know where it ends.

And so I walk on it
With wobbly and usnure steps
Like those I took at the dawn of my childhood,

While the sand of time is falling like a snowstorm behind me
And each of little grains is

equally,
painfully,
precious;
more so with every step I take.

and now I try to snatch a few and save them in a handful
the precious few

to carry them with me
and share with some others
who may be walking this path too some day
or are already doing so.

So here I am, plodding along slowly
I don't know where I am going
Or what I will become

I only know that now I am
The carrier of many grains of sand,
And this is more
Than I have ever been before.