Pocketful of Hardened Suns

When I think of what to write often the ocean comes to mind Endless sea of pretty blue and stretched out horizon lines, impossibly flat Yet when I actually arrive it isn't the sea that my eyes take a liking too Rather it's just below the waves my mind does go... ...to the little trinkets beside my toes Fossils of sea creatures, alive one - and now, even in death - you can see the beauty of their features Seashells of every shape and hue (even if they're familiar, somehow they're always new) Some are inky black or cobalt blue, creamy whites and nutty browns (pretty oranges, too!) Some are hefty like a throwing stone, others quite miniscule, blending in with the sand Some are fragile -breaking easier than the waves- others are like a hardened sunrise Their well defined rays, my fingers always finds themselves, unbidden as an eye-blink (as unthinking as a smile) I like the clanky sound they make when lightly shook in a mason jar I shake them like dice in cupped hands (loaded, in my case... I don't gamble with a good time) Yeah, when it comes to the beach I'm like a kid at a candy store My treats aren't in bins, but glisten on the sandy shore I scoop them in my hands, still wet with the sea Stick them in my pockets, if the case need be (and you know it always does if I'm being honest) Where it gets me, I don't know, but, please, just one more keepsake! (this simple joy I try to harness) I pick up a second then a third while still admiring the first A dozen or two, is only of mild concern (a wagon-full is even worse) Yes It is an obsession through and through I could be just as happy with one as with a thousand (maybe happiness isn't something you can attach a number too) And I don't know why I do it, treasure to me (but not for thee) And even rarity isn't an excuse You can pick them up by the shovel, they aren't difficult to find You can count a hundred alone within arms reach (maybe joy doesn't have to be rare, but can be as common as clouds... maybe it's not something "out there", but somewhere near, even to the ground) Near as an object lying beside your feet Near as a thought that came to you... ...while walking on the beach