Spiral patterns and softly pointed curves
Sitting quietly on my windowsill
Once you housed a deep sea creature
Now you are open to voices
Pouring out waves of emotion
Highs and lows, crashing and breaking
In gentle murmers.
I lift you to my ear and listen.
This shell sits on the window sill of my counselling room. As I noticed it today I thought of how it is said shells hold the sound of the sea, and I wondered just what I might hear stored in this shell.