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On Sea-Shells

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Curled like a spindle, spiraled and spined
Chambered or channeled or one of a kind

Found in the garden, washed up on the sand
Fragments of nacre, some humble, some grand

Some sing of water, others are mute
Strewn songs of comfort, or sharp and astute

Ulmo hears all of them, ocean or streams
Waves over ruins, rain falling in dreams

Mother and Maker and Waters salt-sweet
Seashells are moments where many things meet