The glass of the sea

We rise with the sun. Stirring these limbs. Stretching to the light. The pulled back tides reveal the life beneath. On this beach, I found one of the largest pieces of sea glass I’ve seen in a long time. Frosted and ready for collection. I was telling sister about my nerdy collection and how I always toss back anything with sharp edges as those pieces are not ready. It needs more tumble, more tide, more travels to become smooth, soft, and ready for picking.
As I’m speaking with her, we both stop and stare. A pause. Her and I don’t need words, yet we know what is being said.
If it’s too sharp, it’s not ready.
I think of life. Experiences. Ebb and flow. I think of people in this instant.
Those in my life direct and indirect. The sharp ones, hammering at life, instead of tumbling with to smooth their edges.

The soft ones, smooth on surface, have weathered storms from tides and travel. Buried beneath the surface, gasping for life, maybe air at times. Closed fists, as a way to paint. This is the storming. There will be beauty and a softening on the other side. It will come. Your life can blink in a moment.
Your storms will unearth your greatest strengths and soften your shell, I promise you this.

stephanie birch