The Crab's Morning Work

I woke up with the dawn's first light, And stepped outside to a gentle sight, A crab, so small, with purpose clear, Was working hard, with no hint of fear. He moved the sand with tiny claws, Building his home without a pause, Each grain he placed with careful grace, Determined to make his sacred space. The waves would come, but he’d rebuild, With patient skill and quiet will, For in his heart, he knew the way, To start anew, come what may. As I watched, the sun rose high, And I felt a peace I can’t deny, For in that crab’s small, steady strife, I saw the beauty of simple life.