How?

How are you crafted so?

How could you be crafted so thoughtfully

So that you’re so soft and rough.

Your surface is comforting like a massage of the hand

yet you leave scratches in your wake.

So strong, yet brittle.

Someone could hit you all day and never made a dent,

But a child’s hand can reduce you to just dust of your former self,

just sand on a beach.

 

Whose hands took just made you from dust

(And dust you shall someday return)

and formed you strong and compact until you are like stone.

Compacted like a giant hand took you into a enormous measuring cup

and packed you together like brown sugar

and set you an the earth.

The weak sand laying defeated on the beach to join the strong stone above.

 

So grand and yet so simple.

Too strong for a strongman,

Yet simple enough for a child to pick up,

Marvel at your beauty

and destroy with their little meaty hands that can’t even hold a pencil.

 

How?

How are You crafted so?