Golden Sand

Golden stalks scattered, bent, and broken.
Winter came and went.
Death persists, from the ashes springs new life unkempt.

From the fallen comes the seed.
From the soil comes the weed.

Forsaken dirt, a sparse wasteland.
No life is found within the sand.
Life can't grow where no stalk stands.

From the fallen comes the seed.
Where there is soil expect a weed.

The gust of wind that breaks the stem.
The gust in streams it carries sand.
The rock that stands against the gale.
Is beaten down. In time it fails.

From the fallen comes the grain.
New life is only born from pain.

Death and life: one and the same.