Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …

collecting seashells

26 July 2013

Collecting seashells

 

 

In darkness we begin,

our mere presence chasing the tide back

to the silent depths where it belongs.

A trackless stretch of sand, pristinely groomed

for exploration, for scavenging, for the

unadulterated joy of discoery.

Barefoot, for this is holy ground,

we trek along, keeping pace

with the lightening East, stepping gingerly,

cautiously, both a necesiity as well as

a courtesy.

 

Some treasures are more obvious,

on the surface, willing sacrifices

to the trespassing gods.

Others, hidden, just below the surface,

or revealing only a hint of

what lies beneath.

Like life, sometimes what appears

to be something of great value

is revealed to be broken, damaged,

or worse, common.

But, then again, sometimes

we get lucky, excavating something

special, something unexpected,

something of value.

 

And then, maybe once or twice,

usually when we least expect it,

when we have resigned ourselves

and given up all hope,

we stumble on something unique,

something truly worth treasuring,

something that makes the entire

journey worthwhile,

all of the energy expended,

the digging, the searching,

the disappointments and false leads,

and that insatiable curiosity which

drives us onward, one more step,

one more shovel-full,

one more try …

 

And for one brief moment,

in the dawning light of a brand new day,

we know why we are out here,

collecting seashells,

and it no longer matters

if they are empty or not.

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26 July, 2013 - Posted by | Poetry |

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