THE REQUEST


I saw her bend down to touch the waves—her hair flying in the breeze. Then she stood up, staring at the vast blue-green expanse. She seemed to be in another world—another time. Her frail little body looked so helpless against the mighty ocean she stood gazing at. What was in her mind, I wondered.

I walked close to her. She did not hear me coming as she was talking to the noisy waves.

Slowly she sat on the sand and kept caressing the sandy waves. I watched the tears on her face, and then in shock I heard her speak to the waves—"Don't kiss my feet; give my fisher parents back.” Yes, she spoke to the waves of the mighty ocean. Did the ocean (settling down after the tsunami) hear her? Well, I did.

Crystal David John

Copyright © 2021 Crystal David John

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace