My Cowrie Shell

The tide recedes, but leaves behind
one strange seashell on the sand.
The sun bright, but with gentle warmth
still lingering on the land.

The music stops yet echoes on
in sweet, soulful refrains.
For every joy that passes,
something beautiful remains.

Grasping it from its domicile,
there is a little curled shell.
Warm to a gentle touch,
much like an almighty spell.

The magnificence, so mesmerising,
for I knew it possessed the ocean.
It carried the lap of all tides,
all by itself using its strong ambition.

Connections like this don’t come easy,
they take a little hope and a little patience.
For this shell brought faith,
this shell was a wonderful creation.