On our walk along the beach this morning

among the roar of the waves and those sweet saltwater smells

we hunted as we are want to do…for interesting shells.


We never know what we might find as the seashore is filled with surprises.

We usually end up with a myriad of shells in many shapes and sizes.


Today’s walk was a little different as we shared the same impulse…

though unspoken

for unbeknownst to either of us…some of our chosen shells…were broken.


While we were mesmerized by the magnificence and the beauty of our shells

We were taken with the natural beauty of the broken shells as well.


And it made me wonder if that’s not true of us…though it too often goes unspoken

for when you stop to think about it…aren’t we all…a little broken?


None of us are perfect…(wouldn’t that make life a little dull?)

and the fact that we’re all broken…is what makes us beautiful.


We are all distinctive…some of us are idiosyncratic, some colorful and some bizarre… 

but it’s these subtle little differences that make us who we are.


As we look around our country today…

many signs abound and many cruel words have been spoken

that show how we are living in a land whose people have been broken.


We are a country left in pieces….a myriad of broken shells

and it is more important than it ever was…to find our beauty, now, as well.


I pray we find a way to combine our beauties…to make peace in compromises

and learn to live together with our myriad of broken shapes and colors and sizes…


May we uncover beauty in all our broken pieces…

like those we found today along the shore

And find a way to blend them all together…

into something more beautiful than before.


Shattered on the Tile

His eyes

Feed the lies

They are filled with gloss

And loss

And I feel like they are staring at me

And I feel like they are staring at nothing

As his thoughts pour into the air


His face

Is covered in sweat

And regret

He falls to the floor

Once he can’t think anymore

And there are shattered pieces across the tile

Shattered pieces of hope




Sprawled across the ground

But no one makes a sound

It’s the violence

Of the reliance

That makes the brick

Break like a stick

A twig

His eyes

Open big

Then close

And in that moment

The rose


And all the lies

Lie with us

Before hitchhiking on a bus

To truth

And leaving us


On the tile