The Voice

THE VOICE

She opens the heavy bottle to realize they are only sand
Only sand that has traveled to many places
Only sand that has been through different weathers
Only sand that has been through different hands of people
Only sand that has so much experience yet no voice to share
Only sand that is unknown to her

She sees the sand as only sand
Only sand that is worth not even a penny
Only sand that is useless to a bottle she could keep
Only sand that adds weight to what she has been carrying
"So heavy" is all she felt

Worthless, Useless, Weighty
She decides to pour away
"Thinking" that pouring away is the only choice

As she pours
She observes
The motion of falling sand
Like water, flowing from the opening
Rushing to be cleansed through the process
Like raindrops, ticking the ground concurrently
Playing music creatively in the background

"The fallen sand"
Can be anything one imagines
Rushing out quickly or slowly
Is all within her control
When she finally realize her "unknown"
The bottle is already emptied

The unspoken experience that the sand has been waiting
Waiting for a chance to share
Finally understood by one
Through the process of scattering
harsh and unyielding
A new experience is taught to the sand
Sometimes one learns through the soft
Sometimes one learns through the hard
Whichever is the way
one is still learning
It's never a choice of its own

Because on its own
It is nobody and remains nothing
Like a natural particle that belongs to nature
Remains as it is in its own state
to be discovered one day
just to tell the next
we are equal

The intention of the sand is never heard
Leaving the next to discover on its own
Like an endless learning journey
"The plan of a never planned"

Unless she stops being incurious
Unless she stops enveloping herself from truth
The truth in which beauty lies
The beauty is always there to be discovered

The child has lots to learn
The science of matters
The wonders of matters
The depth of matters
The unknown to the known
and back to the unknown
one begins to mold to its desired piece
the piece is nothing.

                                                                                                                         J. K