Rachael Elizabeth Shook
June 4 1975 – December 28 2022
At the time of my confession
In the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood 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 the 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
And in every grain of sand
Oh the flowers of indulgence
And the weeds of yesteryear
Like criminal 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
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 a chill and 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, there’s someone there, other times it’s only me
I am hanging in the balance
Of a perfect finished plan
Like every sparrow fallen
Like every grain of sand
Every Grain of Sand
By Bob Dylan