Pebble Dreams

Louise Graves

Every pebble dreams of being sand.

Puts the countless beatings of the waves

Down to another step along the way.

Perceives the bitter, cracking cold,

The almost melting heat.

It is alone amongst a sea of brothers,

But feels itself,

The hardness of its edges

Curved away from touch.

One day

eons away

It will be unnumbered grains of sand,

move and be as one,

Stretching from shore to sea,

To the distant horizons,

The creeping desert.

Carried on the wind and rain.

Scattered, but not lost

For an eternity.