Tumbled smooth by time and tide,
A pebble starts its humble ride.
Born from a mountain, proud and tall,
It’s carried down by nature’s call.

Rivers twist and and rivers turn,
Its edges, sharp, begin to burn.
Rocks collide, a softened gleam,
Chased by currents in a stream.

The ocean calls, its waves embrace,
And the pebble finds its resting place.
Amid the sands it sits there new,
Its story is told in every hue.

Now hands reach down, a child’s delight,
To skip this stone, day or night.
It flies in arcs, and skims the waves,
A fleeting dance the water saves.

Collected then by a curious mind,
A pebble’s purpose is intertwined.
Thrown again, or kept with care,
Its journey could span anywhere.