Castles of Sand
What do sea shells mean
to one who has never seen the beach
never seen
white froth
and happiness swelling till it bursts
What do children mean
to one who can't have any
Why do you
turn on the fan
right after building a palace
painfully
with your deck of cards
Why does the night seem endless
Why is warmth
absent
when you need it
Why is there
no silence
just when you need it
Why do we
continue living
in our castles
of sand.
posted by Prat @ 2:27 AM
14 comments
14 Comments:
Why?
Because...
A something is realized only by realizing its opposite. You know you are sad, because you know happiness.
What is, is understood by what is not.
That's why! :)
"What do seashells mean to one who has never seen the beach?"
Crazy hope?
***wonder****wonder****
Y'know, I was just listening to this song called Helplessly Hoping by CSNY (you must hear it - you'll love it) and then I read these words ... To answer your question - we do it because we can't help it.
warm regards,
SwB
yeah, just waiting to get trampled.
we are deaf dumb and blind and we can only feel- the seashells perhaps?
Sixth Sense ? (not the movie)
What do sea shells mean
To one who never wants to see the beach
never wants to see the white froth
never wanting to feel hapiness swelling till it bursts
What do children mean
to one who cant feel their love
Why do the deck of cards fly away
maybe just that they can be rebuilt another day ?
The night seems endless to those who yearn for dawn.
Warmth isnt absent for those who learn to receive it on and on.
The whisper in your ears and the chatter in your mind seem to drive those silent moments away.
Till the time the tide swells and the wave lash, the castle of sand is home for hermit crabs like us.
Afterall, thats where we leave the sea shells for lost souls to find.
viper
Stormy Zephyr and darling Mr. B,
I have no clue what happened to yer comments- turned this moderation thing on, it got hungry, and off yer comments go.
Apologies on its behalf.
Beautifully written Prat!
Unfortunately dont have answers to any of ur questions...guess we humans always want what we really cant have....but as they say...if u dont dream u dont get it!
Coz dreams are worth living for... and reality sometimes looks good only on celluloid. :-)
some distant part of you wishes for it and hence. ask yerself, ask yerself. and what fun if the spice is just right?
What If I said I had all the answers ...
And that you had them too.
Would it change the moment that this verse was born ...
Would you give up that and all that which you shall feel ...
Would you see that you have never been alone ...
Except at Birth and then at Death ...
(forgive the paradoxes ... they know not that they are)
If you would...
If you could...
Then you already know.
The silence is you.
A few verses by Gibran -
1.
And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children.
And He said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you.
And though they are with you they belong not to you.
...
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
-from The Prophet
2.
I was here from the moment of the
Beginning, and here I am still. And
I shall remain here until the end
of the world, for there is no ending
To my grief-stricken being.
I roamed the infinite sky, and
Soared the ideal world, and
Floated through firmament. But
Here I am, prisoner of measurement.
I heard the teachings of Confucius;
I listened to Brahma's wisdom;
I sat by Buddha under the Tree of Knowledge. Yet here I am;
Existing with ignorance and heresy.
....
I was here from the moment of the Beginning ....
-Song of Man[from Treasured Writings]
3.
Beyond my solitude is another solitude, and to him who dwells therein my aloneness is a crowded market place and my silence a confusion of sounds.
Too young am I and too restless to seek that above solitude. The voices of yonder valley still hold my ears, and its shadows bar my way and I cannot go.
Beyond these hills is a grove of enchantment and to him who dwells therein my peace is but a whirlwind and my enchantment an illusion.
Too young am I and too riotous to seek that sacred grove. The taste of blood is clinging in my mouth and the bow and arrows of my fathers yet linger in my hand and I cannot go.
Beyond this burdened self lives my freer self; and to him my dreams are a battle fought in twilight and my desires the rattling of bones.
Too young am I and too outraged to be my freer self. And how shall i become my freer self unless I slay my burdened selves, or unless all men become free?
How shall my leaves fly singing upon the wind unless my roots shall wither in the dark?
How shall the eagle in me soar against the sun until my fledgelings leave the nest which I with my own beak have built for them?
-Beyond my Solitude[from The Forerunner]
Hey Prat,
Why not? we shud be smiling always :). BTW, your poems are good. My wishes for you to get well versed in verse.
Your words evoke the same emotions as a band entitled 'Snow Patrol'. There are a few songs which I believe you will enjoy; 'You could be happy' and 'Make this go on forever'.
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