Swimming through the milky mere, I found a seashell;
Pearl to my eyes and silk to my fingertips,
It effortlessly drew away the odious clouds I had been submerged in.
My core inhaled a fresh, iced shot.
A pinch of song which played in my system,
A tinge of cyan which ran through my blood.

One simple seashell, manufacturing the meaning of sanctity whilst releasing all tension of mind.
Both you and I had forgotten I was in a lake to begin with.

With one pulse and one crash,
The seashell vanished with the waves,
Locked back into the milky mere.
It seems I focused too much on the beauty
And not enough on the fact that it was actually in my hands.
Perhaps I should be more grateful to have held it at all,
To have seen it is already more than a blessing, yet
I would rather it be in my palms than in my imagination.

I still go back to those dirty waters,
Canoe the perimeter of the shore.
I no longer desire to bring home the shell but rather share with it one more brief moment-
If only I held on a little tighter,
Or did I hold on too tight?

Either way, I recently realized something.
While I wish against this,
Attempt to pray away its reality,
I know that others can see the shell's beauty too.
And I know there will always be the possibility

That someone else brought it home instead.
© joelleviray