Who said each man is an island,

shouting lies across a sea of misunderstanding?

And who said no man is an island?

We are simply grains of sand

flung upon a rocky shore.

Somedays we come together—

pave the way for children at play,

or spin ourselves into frozen prisms of light.

Most days we lay side by side in silent isolation,

unaware of tidal waves beyond our reach.

Only the wind shows us what we’ve missed– swirling

dust clouds, fitful frenzies that jar our previous notions

as we collide into one another,

finding common ground only when the Unseen

Hand once more scatters us like seeds.