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A Pocketful of Sand

“Greeting the Ocean” by deadpoet88


I sat alone by the seashore
Waiting for the waves to catch me
And take me out to sea
Yet I felt a strange fear
Of being washed up on alien shores
And finding the emptiness that haunts me.

The sands were soft under my feet

As the sea would come to greet me
With a delightful coolness
And splash me when I least expected>
Leaving the taste of lingering salt on my tongue
And the rough sand clinging to my dress.

I danced a waltz with the ocean

Catching the water in the cup of my hand
As the waves rolled higher, engulfing more sand
And there was no one I wanted but you
To hold my hand as I walked on
Into the ocean to greet the highest wave.

I surrendered to the saline waters

Letting it play tug of war with my body
I watched the pebbles roll out beside me
Too feeble to resist the smoothing waves
And crab peeked through the salty liquid
Before being carried out to sea.

Then I found myself standing

As the waves crashed against me
And took me closer to peace
And I walked away from the salty sea
With an unexpected gift left by the ocean
A pocketful of sand and a smile on my lips.

There is something about the ocean which draws me towards it. I guess most people must feel this way about the ocean, but I somehow believe that I have such a liking for it because I spent much of my childhood living near it. I didn’t visit it that often, but if I had known what a wonderful the sea is at that time, I’m sure I would’ve gone there every chance I had. Some of my earliest memories are about beaches, seashells, and the sound of the waves. Somehow I’m feeling kind of nostalgic about it. There is nothing like sitting in the water as the waves lap over you. I can just sit and listen forever.




The stars shine brightly in the sky,
Like the glittering petals of roses in the sun.
Melancholy hangs heavy in the air,
Like the fragrance of a thousand gardenias.
The heart yearns for a past forgotten,
Where empty words were once echoed.

The touch of the silver moonlight
Sends a chill running through the air.
The mind feels elated as the wind touches the cheeks,
Though it is cold, inside there is only warmth.
As the mind forays ahead seeking adventures,
Under the keen eye of this sad silence.

The crickets chirp their midnight song,
Fireflies dance to the tune of the wind.
The feet touching the soft grass feel lighter,
As they too begin to sway to the rhythm.
The sorrow blows with a deafening song,
A song to soothe the nostalgia in the soul.

Drops of honey scented rain begin to fall,
Softly drenching the turmoils of the heart.
The pain, the anger, the darkness, washes away,
All that remains is a dose of bittersweetness.
And the heart grows wings and sings its song,
Of joyful tomorrows, and dolorous yesteryears.

Was this sorrow always a part of the will,
The will to feel, the will to live, the will to die?
For without it, I can feel no joy.


The above has been written for Week 25 Thursday Poet’s Rally.