Sometimes We Are Too Busy Despite The Free Time Poem by RIC BASTASA

along the white sands
on a sunny morning by the sea
i collect shells and
pebbles

there are too many of them
but only few are chosen
the only standard is that
'i like this' and there is no other more

and then you put all those few ones
in my pocket
and when i arrive at the cottage
i view them all atop the table

it is the viewing that keeps the mind busy
and so busy that it cannot listen
to each story that the pebble wants to tell
that the mouth of the shell wants
to say beautifully in a song