The Dough and the sand

Sand...yielding and soft to touch;
burned to golden brown
and fragrant with the evening sun..
Pure and lustruous; They are so beautiful from afar...
try to take them in your hands...
and they will slip out of every gap possible...
and what remains on hand, needs to be washed away
Mostly by the salty tears of the sea
..the Illusion of control and, the bane of possession

Dough...White, pure and soft
They easily stick on.. get covered and involved
With the love of water.. and the warmth when caress'd
The attention, and discipline..
It becomes soft, consumable...
And then however much the touch and the caress,
It yields and bends.. and doesnt stick..
quite the spiritual evolution we desire.