Shell of gratitude

What but a rushing heart swells like the tide and treasures of the deep surface
Shiny ones with ridges and swirling, pearly colors
glisten under traces of sunshine
Others are cracked, telling stories of long voyages and adventure
Gifts from the swells of gratitude scooped up
sand in shells
Time and salt and a cool evening breeze
The sun and moon dance.

A tiny life like mine, afloat the sea turned liquid by God Himself
is hardly significant enough to fill a single shell
I rise and fall according to His will, I crack and shimmer under the sun
I am clay, or stone, or sand
or smaller
And yet, I am counted.

Grateful, and the sea expands
Salt of the earth is carried on the wind, savory crystals form on my lips
I taste friendship, I taste life
I dance on the shore under a sliver of glory
for the fullness of gratitude is the song in my soul.

The land and sea commune, sky and soil trade secrets
The mystery of life is a buried treasure
Sink into graciousness, flutter among the living things
stretch out a thankful hand
collect a spot of sand for it’s a broken shell of gratitude
The only thing bigger than the ocean that carries it to the surface
Eternity is the present
And, we are counted.


Thanksgiving is a holiday, but giving thanks is worship. I am deeply grateful for my family, my friends, my health, and for the gift of life. I may only truly understand what is salty, what is broken, what reflects light. But still, I taste, I cry, I laugh, and I am blessed. BB

Happy Thanksgiving 2011

I could crawl into this immense shell and watch the world go by. Taken in January 2010 in Key Largo, FL


One thought on “Shell of gratitude

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s