A state of being, From flower or tree Or mountains or plant To recall them all I can't With me you can see tall Or not well at all Though at any rate, You probably can't walk straight Without me, crushing pressure Or thoughts fresher

Thousand upon thousands of grains am I, beneath the sun and open sky. I line the shores and deserts wide, where small hands build, and waves decide.

I lay dormant waiting for a prize i don’t deserve. Some keep me as company some dont. I like to whisper to those that understand me. What am I?

No legs have I to dance, No lungs have I to breathe. No life have I to live or die, And yet I do all three. What am I?

I fall from clouds but I’m not rain. Every piece of me looks unique and the same. Cold and soft, I cover the ground, In wintertime, I’m all around.