Every Grain of Sand

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father.  And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  So don’t be afraid . . .  Matthew 10:29-30

Every Grain of Sand
By Bob Dylan

In the time of my confession
In the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet
Floods every newborn seed
There’s a dying voice within me
Reaching out somewhere
Toiling in the danger and
The morals of despair

Don’t have the inclination to
Look back on any mistake
Like Cain I now behold this chain of events
That I must break

In the fury of the moment
I can see the Master’s hand
In every leaf that trembles
In every grain of sand

Oh the flowers of indulgence
And the weeds of yesteryear
Like criminals they have choked the breath
Of conscience and good cheer
The sun beat down upon the steps
Of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness
And the memory of decay

I gaze into the doorway
Of temptation’s angry flame
And every time I pass that way
I always hear my name

Then onward in my journey
I come to understand
That every hair is numbered
Like every grain of sand

I have gone from rags to riches
In the sorrow of the night
In the violence of a summer’s dream
In the chill of a wintry light
In the bitter dance of loneliness
Fading into space
In the broken mirror of innocence
On each forgotten face

I hear the ancient footsteps
Like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn and someone’s there
Other times it’s only me

I am hanging in the balance
Of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling
Like every grain of sand

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