Another

How many fleeting sands and dreams,
Are sieved through a made-up screen,
Which leans against your mind and screams,
Every time one gets too big.

Or tell me where the treasure lies,
If not the Oft-passed time,
Between yesterday and tomorrow.

For you can learn many things,
By walking barefoot down a stream,
Like which rocks are good to lean
Upon, and which ones you should avoid.

They say you can't walk across the same stream twice,
But I'm stuck walking up this same stream,
Does that mean that time is more like a dream,
Than something real?

For each step IS this moment,
And even though the water is always moving,
It's the same everywhere.

And now I feel my hair raising,
And my feet blazing,
From the tingling pain of these river rocks.

You can learn many things,
By walking barefoot down a stream,
Like how these rocks are dreams,
And the tiny ones like sand don't hurt.

But slowly as their size increases,
Each step makes sharp tiny creases,
And your once playful gait now reaches,
A crawl.

These rocks are dreams,
And the big ones don't hurt.
So leap and leap
Till' boulders are just stepping stones,
And streams are just a distant groan,
Of how time once trapped you.