Sea glass

You want life to be smooth.
You want to shed the inevitability of human life
as if only then you will be able to live.
You haven’t yet learned enough to remember
How to savour the sound of wind in a canopy
or watch the leaves glittering in the sunlight
while your heart is breaking
or the pressure mounts inside you.
You think you want to smooth out the edges of life,
shave the cracked and jagged bark
to the smooth wood grain below
like Gipetto.
But the blade used against yourself
will never give you smoothness.
You grab knives when you really need spoons.
Sea glass is made smooth by surrendering
to the currents and tides tossing it around
as if the sea didn’t care what comes of it.
But the sea you’re swimming in does care
about you.
It’s roughness is not to hurt you. It just is.
May it smooth away your rough edges –
the sharpness that never really belonged to you –
and leave you whole
like the sea glass that finally makes
its way back to the shore.