Perhaps it is a poem I wrote today. Contemplation on a stone. Perhaps a spoken word with instruments behind, undulating, rising, falling, melody … clarinet, cello and sparse piano.
I am Pebble, We are Pebble
Some rocks crave the ocean —
Cool to the heart, calm in the cold
True colours shining in the sea
Smiling with their mystery, they call
Louder than the song of sea and sand
New songs formed and sung so proudly
Always in the water, seldom on the land
The pebble songs are beautiful
When they come together
Pebbles to the ocean, they both shine
Tides wash over pebbles
And they sing with each receding wave
High tide or full moon —
Different intonation every time
The melody of pebbles on the shore
A duo of the ages, harmonies entwined
When waves wash over sand, the water takes the lead
Sand provides a listening foundation
Or then a tinkle tympany of shells
Crystalline meets salty grain of sand
Always very soothing, soft, and so relaxing
Nature’s perfect somnolence
Without those pebbles clack click klaxing
My heart goes to the shining stones
To find their place, to find their home
Mother rock lost long ago
To the sea, with the sea, with the ocean
From freshly jagged mountains
They come sliding, slipping, rolling
Resting rounded, basking beauty
Every corner knocked off in a storm
A fable of the changing tides
A song of all the winds combined
To make me what I am —
I am pebble. We are pebble
We are made of hardy stone
We’re rolling to perfection
Each pebble is a poem and
Every stone a story