Seashell
Seashell
as I take shape
i lie here in wait
the wind beating
upon my back
my image carved out
by gritty sands of
life
i feel my grooves;
their hardness
i get smoothed over
by the warm sun
but jagged edges
still remain
not as pristine as
when I began
i am swept up
by the gentle palm
of tide
the water-it
absolves me
rightly cleansed
i face sand and
wind again
picked up and thrown
down
never the right fit
battered by the
elements of time
as I take shape
lifted up from this
place of toil
at last
held to my saviours’
ear
i sing a song of
redemption
for my glorious god
to hear
-8/3/14-
Copyright © Christine Costello | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment