Reprise of the dream

This is in continuation of the preceding piece - the dream of a pebble.

On the dark damp ocean floor
the rays of the sun shivered
The day and night
merged one into other.

It lay there dead
distant from life
Unable to look at the sun
defeated in its strife.

It remembered the days on the shores
swept by waves on the yellow sands
Thinking of the warm sun
and playing in children’s hands.

One day as it lay deep under a rock
abandoned by a tempestuous wave
A blue wind picked it up
out of the crevice and into a cave.

Banished into the darkest corner
it lay there waiting for the final breath
When a mighty wave swirled it around
and tossed it-turned it round and round.
It closed it eyes to the fury so wild
and took its last sight of the wave so white.


The day was new
the sun shone bright
And again the waters on the shore
wore the golden sunlight.

Two dirty hands of a child
found a shell buried in the sands
Curious to see what’s inside
the urchin broke open the shell on its side.

He stared in amazement
at the pearl in his hand
It seemed whiter than the waves
and brighter than the glowing sand.

He rubbed it clean with his dirty hands
and put it in the inner pocket of his pants
And walked back to his castle on the white foam
the pebble had finally found its home.


                                              -- Archana

The dream of a pebble

The ocean of this world
has many shells on this shore
Riding on the waves
they come and go.

Some look small,
the others shine
No sheen is lost
though the water saline.

They hit the sands
the swirls of white foam
This is a transit
the ocean is their home.

One grey pebble sits
on the beach alone
Longing for the golden sun
in the evening waters that shone.

But it doesn’t belong to the sea
is not one of the shells
Can’t swim in the golden waters
yellow sands is its hell.

Though the waters come and go
in waves so white
The pebble sits there
all day and night.

It asks the shells and it asks the waves
if I can be the one too
With an abode in golden waters
riding on the white waves..

So swept by the waves
in the rosy twilight of that fateful day
Leaving the dry sands
it entered the ocean happy and gay.

With shells singing their song of pride
as they move towards their home tonight,
The pebble was alone and lost
on the golden waters which seemed so dark.

It cried out aloud,
its tears one with the saline
The waves carried it farther
in the ocean pristine.

The more it cried
the more the waves roared
No place for the dark pebble
neither in the ocean,
not now on the shore.

And there it drowned
in the waters dark and cold
With its dreams and songs
buried under the ocean floor.


                              -- Archana