Isn't it funny...
That when we look for seashells,
Upon a beautiful sandy beach,
We always tend to look for the ones,
That are perfectly complete and whole?
I think this is where we go wrong in life.
We need to pick up the broken pieces,
That are discarded for want of not.
To collect all others,
That are just the same.
A mending, of sorts...
And to form a new beginning,
To show the love,
That is within our hearts.
"For everything that exists,
Should never be disregarded."
And when the time comes,
We should set them free,
Back into the beautiful ocean,
Like a message in a bottle,
For someone else to find.
So, when they see the cracks,
Of that beautiful withered shell,
Washed ashore,
Upon broken backs;
They will see the power,
The beauty,
How complete;
Broken can be.
I hope they look upon their hands,
Of intact shells collected,
And see that real beauty,
Is made to be broken.
So the next time your on a beach somewhere,
With a pocket full of shells,
Please don't disregard the broken ones...
Because underneath the fractured,
You just might find a pearl.
