You’re not supposed take pebbles from the beach.
Leave them for others to enjoy, they say.
But what if chance doesn’t bring
The pebble anyone else to see it.
Who am I to say?
Well, I am a pebble.
Left behind, seemingly to flourish
Waiting still to be picked up again
What if I go unnoticed for the rest of time?
What are my chances?
8 billion others on this planet
and I’m just a pebble.
I try so hard to will someone in my way,
my chances don’t factor it in.
Dad likes the gray stones
with white streaks cutting through,
I don’t know that I’d ever picked one up
until he said that.
Different pebbles
catch the eyes of different others,
but the chances of the
two meeting are still so small.
Is someone in charge here?
Is anyone watching,
helping each piece to
fit together as they ought to be?