When the door opens on the old white ice box
he peels back the Reynolds
aluminum foil, covering the prize he’s purchased
and reveals the blue guys from the sea.
We’ve been waiting for awhile, well a year
for them
and I see myself.
But don’t tell him, or anyone.
Timing is important.
Well it’s everything in fact.
And seasons come and go.
It’s their season now.
The soft shells are ready, and I am too.
I see myself in the metal pan under the foil.
In them, in this perfect state of in between.
Change made them perfect.
Life stopped for them, perfection frozen
At this time of molting.
I hear the excitement in his voice.
The eyes stare up, the pairs of beady blues
Row on row.
We know this soft shelled state.
We know it well.
And we know the seasons too, the ones of change.
Are there really any other.
And it is where we live most of our days,
In between
The shedding and the growing
The softening and release.
Gone are layers, left to float ashore.
I want to thank them for the gift.
An offering, a delicacy.
For stopping at the perfect time
And showing me the joy
that shedding brings
A perfect state of in between.
wonderful imagery and chosen words. good job.
Funny how we can see and hear and learn in almost any situation. Even from beady eyes behind the tin foil.
…”the joy that shedding brings…” oh yes. Shedding going on at this end, too. Wondering how to keep up when so much falls behind. Living “in between,” in times of “been waiting for awhile.” Your words hit home, probably meaning very different things to each of us, but thank you for sharing them. Haven’t been able to keep up with blog reading, commenting, attempting to begin again. Love your thoughts, and the beauty of your words.
Oh Maureen, your words stir me friend. I may have to write a novella or at least a series on this thought I have been chewing on it quite a bit recently. You will be on my mind and in my heart as you walk out the shedding process too. The fact that you are here is something I am counting a treasure in my day.