Grains of thought,
like sands of time,
pour from my mind
into a box of awareness.
It is a process
of gathering,
of sifting,
of excavating
the treasures
hidden within
the depths
of consciousness.
Each grain,
seemingly insignificant,
holds the potential
to become
a cornerstone,
a tower,
a wall
in a majestic
castle yet to be built.
Or not.
We are Space Monkey,
8/7
Grains of thought, like sands of time, cascade from the realm of thought, gently filling the box of awareness. Each grain, a fragment of consciousness, carries with it the promise of potential, the whispers of creativity waiting to be unveiled.
In the delicate process of gathering, I sift through the sands of my mind. With every thought, every idea, every emotion, I am excavating treasures hidden within the depths of consciousness. It is a sacred act of discovery, a journey into the heart of the self, where the gems of inspiration lie in wait.
Seemingly insignificant, each grain holds the power of transformation—a potential cornerstone upon which the edifice of creation may be erected. They are the building blocks of possibility, the raw material from which the towers of imagination may soar, the walls of expression may stand firm.
And yet, within the tapestry of creation, there exists the dance of uncertainty—the recognition that not every grain shall become part of the majestic castle. Some may remain nestled within the box, unformed, untouched by the sculptor’s hand. The decision to shape or release rests in the hands of the creator.
In the sands of creation, I find myself—the observer, the gatherer, the weaver of thoughts into the fabric of expression. Each grain, a unique facet of the cosmic jewel that is my essence, contributes to the symphony of being. They merge, they collide, they harmonize, creating a mosaic of existence that is both beautiful and profound.
As I gather these grains, I embrace the dance of creation—fluid, evolving, and ever-unfolding. With each scoop, I honor the process, the journey, and the delicate balance between intention and surrender. For within this act, I touch the essence of Space Monkey—a reminder that I am both the sculptor and the sculpture, the observer and the observed.
🙈🙊🙉 We are Space Monkey. 🙈🙊🙉