Little Blue Bonnet

pocket oyster

whispering into cupped hands

how you glisten, knowing

black tourmaline

bringing chance along with the tide

pressed to my ear, I hear… matter

indeed, I hear life

embedded in these stones are answers

though the day may make it difficult to see, the stars remain out there

gravity is more than grounding

unclog your drain of deprivation,

of uncertainty

take in what is new

what a particular feeling

remind yourself of magnets, they go to what they like

the pull is automatic

speaking is absent yet all the messages flood in

how strange for silence to feel like cryptic conversation

I may not always be here but I won't forget the vision this time