Footstep

Sand
Uneven, warm, gentle
Who be known what it kept in itself
I just stood on the surface
A little baffled
A little frightened
A little ecstatic
Not a care for what was inside, but
For what may be out, be tragic.
Maybe a little, tiny shell
Who was once too little to rise
Maybe a lost, little snail
Who was once too lost to cry.

No, Out be a surprise
For out was not a life
Out was an opportunity
An opportunity of a different sort
An invite to not to take
Not to take, but to leave behind
A footstep.

I being how I was
Dare not go in the marsh lands
For that be too daunting
That be too futile.

Sea
Deep, cold, harsh
Keeping in itself a zillion enigmas
I just stood facing it
A little frightened
A little baffled
A little morose
Wondering about the hopes inside
Cries be out as roars
Calmed by the abyss there
At the sides, pleading as waves
Trying to rise above the calm
Just to fall again.

And suddenly, it be tranquil
For it was inviting me to its game
Presenting the same opportunity
An opportunity of same sort
Sea be shallow now to invite
To invite to leave behind
A footstep.

I being how I was
Dare not go in the marsh lands
For that be too daunting
That be too futile.

Yet, as it was to happen,
Marsh lands were in front of me
I being how I was
Be too esteemed, to run or be.
Sauntered to the front.
The opportunity still stood firm
The sand be warm and grainy
The sea be gentle and calm
And, I be a little more daunting
Went ahead
With all the courage
That I ever had
I took a step in the marsh lands,
And, as it had always been
The irony that had always run
The sea turned to be mean
As soon as I lifted the foot
The sand be colder and softer
The sea be harsher and fuming
I be there, looking down,
Footstep be washed in soothing.

The sand was but
A little more uneven now.
The sea was but
A little more deep now.
Another wish
Had been washed away.

And, now there was no one
Nothing I ever knew
Except the sea, the sand
Where I was is now
Another slope rising and falling
And, a newborn standing near it
Not paying attention to it
Listening to one among many roars
Being put down by the abyss
Looking at one among many waves
Rising and falling.
Narrating the story of a hope
That once grew little daunting.
And, he, being how he was,
Failed to listen to it.

The sand be now warm again
The sea be now calm again
Presenting a new invite
An opportunity to leave behind
A footstep.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s