beach glass

in my hand I hold a story

washed away by the sands of time

 

a fragment of the past

beaten and forgotten

stripped from depths that never saw the light

 

lost among the wreckage

of a perilous journey for years

it somehow found its way to me

 

but I cannot retell its tale

for its origins are still a mystery

forever lost under the waves

 

through all the uncertainty,

I know that I am holding

a connection to the past

 

a beautiful piece of beach glass

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I recently took a walk along the shore and recovered a few pieces of beach glass that inspired me to write this. I began to wonder if they are a hundred year old remains from a shipwreck or simply a bottle that fell overboard… They could be anything, and the possibilities seemed endless. I think it is amazing to consider the story behind something so simple, and the history of something in my hand. What are your thoughts on this?