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Sea Glass MAG
November 10, 2013
Like sea glass,
We are subject to the tides and currents.
Our edges are smoothed, our color dulled.
We are all different, rare.
A treasure.
Time has rendered us tired and lost.
Out at sea we sit, buried by our burdens.
We wait, oblivious to the hands of time.
The hands that shaped us,
With help from the rolling undertow.
We are comprised of moments.
Shattered and scattered across the white sand,
We sit and wait
For sacred hands to carry us home.
© Amanda S., Northfield, NH
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