The Boy and the Sand - Part One
Here's another little story
Told around my land;
This one's of a little boy who
Loved to play with sand.
You could find him on the beach on
Semi-humid days;
"Moisture in the air," he said, "will
Help me set the grains."
He'd construct these works of art that
Seem like they're too real;
Statues, castles, planets, ships,
Nothing's too surreal.
Fortunate was I too see his
Very last attempt;
"Now I'll try to carve out something
Free of world's contempt."
"Beauty is the source for this one.
Love, the motive right.
She'll be great! I know she will have
Beauty multiplied."
Starting with a mound of sand, he
Chucked the first bit off;
Then, as if he knew to fly, he
Whizzed around stuff.
What I saw before me was a
Tribute to success;
Sand that had no form at all was
Turning to noblesse.
Finally, he settled down and
Looked at what he made;
Standing there was but a goddess
Lying in the shade.
Beauty was the inspiration,
No doubt in my mind;
His creation was the best in
All of humankind.
"Something's just not right," he said while
Reaching for his pail;
"Can't just leave it like it is, so
Meek, so hard and pale."
After some reflective time, he
Ran to the lagoon;
Then he started humming out a
Soft and gentle tune.
When the water heard his song so
Lofty in the wind,
It responded with a light that
Spawned from its within.
Beaming out into the air, the
Light began to rise,
Like a worm that's coming up for
Water from the skies.
The worm of light began to make
Its way across the beach;
And when it came next to the art
It came to sudden breach.
The light began to swirl around
The woman made of sand.
It started at her chest and spread
Throughout her feet and hands.
And what my eyes beheld me next
Was nothing short of awe;
The woman made of sand began
To breathe and move her jaw.
|