The mind is a tiny grain

It’s force, we can’t restrain

It’s deluge and flood we suffer

Results of trouble we cause another

The weight of this tiny grain

Grows as we seek worldly gain

When we can’t hold it any longer

We may begin the inner ponder

The influence of this tiny grain

Will begin to wither and wane

When wisdom’s made the cook

Recipe’s original, not from a book

When we’re thankful for this grain

It ceases to be a source of pain

Joy and sorrow continue to drizzle

But our gratitude can’t be fickle