Once ancient ocean full of 
fossil not yet fossilized, now 
solid land we stand upon, gentle 
animals. There against the foaming 
hem of sea sits a conch shell, a reminder 
of life left behind not so long ago. Listen. 
Please listen. Please please press 
the conch shell up against the ear 
of your heart, the waves crashing 
and calling you back to the ancient ocean 
you abandoned. When love runs deep enough 
to carve canyons, please build a raft out of fallen 
trees and ride the river until it relinquishes. 
When grief, that gargantuan glacier, grinds 
through solid rock, leaving behind valleys 
of loneliness, please put on a warm coat 
and admire this reminder of your aliveness. 
When fear erupts deep within the earth, 
please let truth evaporate and steam into sky. 
Please let yourself be carried out to the salt
and the soot, the muck and the moss, back 
to the beginning of the beginning and the end 
of the end.