but by accomplishing nothing,

he realized that

his beliefs should might as well

be the algae beside him,

partying in the flow of the lake.

So he stopped.

He partied

and felt as though he were old.

he had let the rot

onto his skin--

buried himself

so the fish would never find him.

He wanted to be found,

then carried.

unearthed

among millions of others

who wanted the same thing.

he had no needs,

only wants that he couldn't have.

but that night he partied--

got out his dancing shoes

and jumped with the tide.

it carried him.

one half inch.

How many inches had he left?

How much longer?

Will God run out of tides?

It took him forty-three years,

seventy-nine days,

and six hours to reach his goal.

he was wet.

he was slimy.

and then all of the sudden--

sun.

sun.

sun beams hit his face,

and at first, his hard eyes

were blinded

they burned and flashed in the

crisp but warming air.

He breathed for the first time

in so long. . .

The lake dried off his back

and he was part of something greater.

He knew it

and did not envy the fools

who stayed behind,

waiting for someone to

love them first.

The dryness of his skin was

astonishingly pleasant.

He breathed with a certain

type of grace

and couldn't believe that

all those years ago, he had

nothing but the dreary lake floor

to warm his stony soul.

he heard laughter.

he began to laugh too,

with the children.

giggles and screams of delight.

he was free

and he was beautiful.

he was alive.

he felt a cage.

he was raised off the floor.

he giggled with the voices.

they faded away.

he was held by a girl

in her hands

giant

hands

They felt colder

than the jacket he used to wear.

she bounced him.

he felt sick.

she bounced him again, finding his weight

was right in her palm.

he was so high.

he wanted to get down.

he was launched,

thrown in the air

by the girl showing off her strength.

he was exploded

into the sky,

and he was the closest he was to the sun

that he ever was in his life.

forty-three years

seventy-nine days

six hours

one dream.

gone.

in the instant

he was thrown back

into the watery depths.

I would think twice before throwing those stones back into the sea.

CnC if you like.