the mind poetic

the sea awakens
and kisses sand
the sun spreads glitter
on waves at sea
the wind caresses
child's ebony hair
child discovers
an empty shell.


the child picks it up and cradles it in her soft little hands. she fondles it like a mother fondles her baby. the child smiles, eyes full of wonder. where did the owner of this shell go? she shakes the shell hard trying to dislodge anything that might be housed inside. nothing came out of it. the child looked at the inviting emptiness inside the shell. she pressed it against her ear.

she scampers forth to where her mom and dad were sitting.

"i found an empty shell, mommy!" she proudly announced still pressing it against her ear.
"be careful, daughter," her dad cautioned, "there might be something inside, might bite you."
"no. no one's home," she gladly explained, "and you know what, dad? i can hear the sea inside!"
"you don't need that to hear the sea, honey," her mom protested, "we're here, sitting, and there's the sea!" she pointed to the vast expanse of undulating blue greenish waves in front of them.
"i know," the child answered, "but the sea sings differently inside this shell."

the child ran off to where her plastic pail and shovel was. she scooped some sand into the red pail until it was half full. then gently she placed the empty shell on top of it.  she declared to herself, "i will return it back to where i picked it up before we leave so the owner can sleep peacefully inside it when night comes."


they say this is how poets are born.