World's mine Oyster

I was walking on the boardwalk the other day and came across a pebble. It seemed to catch my right foot in perfect stride. Off it went on a flight, appeared to float in weightlessness as it rotated in the breeze, seemingly unaffected by gravity, rising sharply to its zenith and then in a parabolic decline it landed back onto the wooden planks of the board-walk. The rattling sound was a noticeable “plunk,” and then a non-rhythmic clatter. The pebble finding the wood traveled in a random motion, this way and that, aimless and quite directionless as it deviated from right to left and then seemed to find a contact point that made it careen to the right, coming to rest against the guard-rail.

And I thought about our thoughts. How many of them are against guardrails waiting for a kick-start again and again. An idea, a thought, a concept is a pebble that needs a periodic force of will to move it along until it finds the perfect landscape of a defined architecture.

Maybe that pebble never left the guard-rail or then again maybe the street-sweeper gathered it in its brush-wheel and deposited it in the collected trash. Maybe the trash was emptied into a stone separator and the pebble washed through a bed of water, now sits in its clean splendor sold to a newly constructed home and its beautiful garden where a child will gather it in his or her hands and throw it once again. Maybe he or she will throw it into a pond or lake and the ripples created will burn in his or her memory for a later endeavor that will spread through humanity with exponential charm and change the course of human history.

Oh! I wish it would be so!

Don’t you?

…I think it will be so!

Why then the world's mine oyster,
Which I with sword will open. ~William Shakespeare