Shell of life


My grandmother used to sprinkle egg shells in her garden
Composting in her own way
Giving back to her little patch

Today I feel broken
Shattered and questioning myself
Decartian decomposition of my own shell

Behind the shroud of the mirror
In my brokenness waits one solitary hope
That I may fertilize the beautiful garden around me, too


4 Responses to “Shell of life”

  1. I know that feeling. What a beautiful poem! I love it!

  2. this is elegant, well done.

    bless your weekend.

    welcome joining us today.

  3. I love how the memory of your grandmother was able to fertilize your own thoughts in a time of need and help inspire you. Very well written.

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