The Boy and the Sand - Part One

Here's another little story Told around my land; This one's of a little boy who Loved to play with sand. You could find him on the beach on Semi-humid days; "Moisture in the air," he said, "will Help me set the grains." He'd construct these works of art that Seem like they're too real; Statues, castles, planets, ships, Nothing's too surreal. Fortunate was I too see his Very last attempt; "Now I'll try to carve out something Free of world's contempt." "Beauty is the source for this one. Love, the motive right. She'll be great! I know she will have Beauty multiplied." Starting with a mound of sand, he Chucked the first bit off; Then, as if he knew to fly, he Whizzed around stuff. What I saw before me was a Tribute to success; Sand that had no form at all was Turning to noblesse. Finally, he settled down and Looked at what he made; Standing there was but a goddess Lying in the shade. Beauty was the inspiration, No doubt in my mind; His creation was the best in All of humankind. "Something's just not right," he said while Reaching for his pail; "Can't just leave it like it is, so Meek, so hard and pale." After some reflective time, he Ran to the lagoon; Then he started humming out a Soft and gentle tune. When the water heard his song so Lofty in the wind, It responded with a light that Spawned from its within. Beaming out into the air, the Light began to rise, Like a worm that's coming up for Water from the skies. The worm of light began to make Its way across the beach; And when it came next to the art It came to sudden breach. The light began to swirl around The woman made of sand. It started at her chest and spread Throughout her feet and hands. And what my eyes beheld me next Was nothing short of awe; The woman made of sand began To breathe and move her jaw.