The grains of sand, so small yet vast,
Hold secrets of the ancient past.
Each tiny piece, a memory stored,
Of histories that time has scored.

Beneath the sun’s warm, gentle kiss,
The sands of time in silent bliss.
They dance upon the ocean’s edge,
A whispered tale on nature’s ledge.

Footprints fade, but sand remains,
Eternal in its shifting chains.
A canvas for the wind to paint,
A timeless art, without constraint.

So let us cherish every grain,
A symbol of both joy and pain.
For in the sand, we find our place,
A fleeting touch in endless space.