have you tried to count
all these grains?
do not bother; instead
count all the ways you
can put them together.

until then, I will
grab a handful
and a shovel and some
quiet splashes of water
to pass the time.

this one has long spires
pointing above with all its
might, as if showing me
that the only way
to go is up.

another has windows beside
windows and they invite
me to come take a look, yet
I keep distance in fear that
I see something painful.

over there has a drawbridge
a shortcut to go the easy way
in or easy way out; or maybe you
will pull it up when you've
let it more that you can handle.

that farthest one is actually
the same as the home of princes
with towers and balconies where
together they spend their days
watching the flowers bloom.

this right here is my favorite
the youngest one, still a flat
expanse of soft ground that
begs to be held and to be
formed and loved.

choose one. call it by name,
because now you shall own it.
Embrace it, but take care
that your elbows fit the spires
and your shins are at peace.

but sooner that you wish,
the water retreats with the
will of potential; until it
finally roars back with
the bellow of decision.

and alas,
it is clean again.