in the broken shells

she put all her eggs in one basket

neatly stacked within the tawny braided bin

fraught with grasses and mosses

atop she carefully placed the fragile and fine

slight shells of emeralds and ambers

thin skins surrounding creamy

zygotes of potential

it was she who hoped one day

one egg

would hatch unbroken from its outer

pure and true

the impossible seemed possible

but she learned in the broken shells

was the beauty of frail vulnerability

only found when promise

is kept close and nested

in a loving basket of hope

 

 

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2 thoughts on “in the broken shells

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