A Cockle Shell… gifted to me …

as I hold this shell in hand 
felt are the many moons of time
the creating of waves at high tide
delicate yet firm, fragile yet strong
it speaks the silence and the roar of oceans
it holds the heart in stillness and passion
is this not an artifact of life and love itself
is this not the gift of waters vast and flowing
is this not the Creator’s offering of BEING
yes, whispers my soul… yes…

Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, New York