Pebbles sitting in my hand.

Here I stand on the beach my feet buried in the sand, my eyes straining out to sea, tiny pebbles dry and rough sitting in my hand. I used to think I was special , one of a kind but like these pebbles in my palm I am just one of many vessels.

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I can not help but wonder how many waves have washed this beach. How many sun sets and sun rises have graced this lonely place. I throw a pebble out to sea and wander where it may reach.

The breeze is gentle on my face unlike your caress, so many times I looked for you but found only emptiness. Another pebble I release and this one  skims the surface. I’ve never managed that before it brings a  fleeting smile to my face and gives me a new purpose.

There is not another soul on the beach I stand here alone the suns has nearly gone now but I do not want to go home. How many little sea shell has the sea deposited here then over time ground them down and turned them into sand. How many stars are there up in the night sky both question sound too grand.

The waves are lapping at my feet I feel it through the sand  it is dark now as I release another pebble from my hand. The breeze no longer warm has found a sudden chill I feel somehow I should move but I just do not have the will.

My hand is almost empty now like my shrunken heart. I look out to the horizon make one last wish and throw this lonely pebble like a dart. The moon has climbed up in the sky I ought to move , but why. The water washes up my legs I look into my soul and count the dregs there is not much left to save. I walk forward then start to swim out to a watery grave.

3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. poetofmidnight
    Aug 25, 2011 @ 04:32:02

    It seems the beginning of the poem is contemplating the wonders of life. The number “of sunrises and sunsets” on the beach and where the pebbles will go each time they’re thrown. However, reading it a second time (and taking in concideration the ending) it seems it’s a metaphor for how everyone is a little “pebble” in life and that life throws us in different directions. Also, that if all of us are mere “pebbles” none of us are more special than anyone else; just “one of many vessels”. Although, your poem has a sad theme it made me think in a new perspective and I think it’s important that poetry arouses our minds and makes us think outside of our own ideas. My interpretation could be wrong; I’ve always had an odd way of anaylising poetry. For what it’s worth your poem was very well written and had a great deal of thought put into it.

    Reply

  2. willowdot21
    Aug 25, 2011 @ 15:15:00

    Thank you poetofmidight for visiting my page and reading my poem. You are spot on with your second opinion of the poem. As you say “poetry is in the eye of the reader” to mash a saying. You have interpreted it as I meant it to be.It is life and the mysteries thereof being pondered by someone who has seen both sides and realizing they are nothing and nothing is left, the only path to take is death. It is a sad poem but sad poetry needs to be written as much as happy. Thank you again.

    Reply

  3. poetofmidnight
    Aug 25, 2011 @ 21:39:19

    When you commented on my blog you said you had a hard time finding my poems.
    try typing this website into the search engine: mysteryofwriting.wordpress.com. That should take you to my homepage, then when you look to the right side bar should be the word “poetry” and underneath it all the poems I’ve put up so far. I’m going to updating in a few minutes with a new post and poem. I hope you can find everything, thanks for visiting.

    Reply

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