Of the Sand

Of wind and sand
A sandstorm starts.
In his heart,
A sandstorm always rages.
It may slow down,
But never goes away.

I am Gaara of the sand.

If one has a sandstorm in their heart,
How does one survive?
The dry sand is salt on a wound,
Piercing and stinging.
But thanks to a cleansing light,
The sand turns silky.
It slips and slides gently,
Like a breeze in one's hair.

I am Gaara of the silky sand now.

July 8, 2006