Excavation

Our stories are born in sand

In fragments of clay

On scrolls in clay jars

Scratches on rocks

Alongside vanished oceans

Deep, deep inland.

We search for

We read these stories to find our place

On this earth.

But in the soft place

Between mysteries and answers

There is your story

Written in this scallop shell

Becoming stone by yielding

What it is to emptiness

Letting in the sand

That will settle

And take form

Not forever

But for this eternity

We hold right now.

It is a fragile shell.

And it is a rock

Somewhere between forever

And now.