The desert stands, vast and bare,
A realm of heat, with little care.
Yet winds arrive, with gentle might,
And carve the sands in lines of light.

What seems so harsh, so wild, so cruel,
Becomes the artist’s shaping tool.
In every grain, a story lies,
Of beauty born where hardship ties.

So, too, in life, when struggles reign,
And skies feel heavy with endless pain,
Be like the wind, relentless, free,
And shape the world with artistry.