The Seashell Song

The song from the seashell

Plays through the window

Of the little house

On the beach

The winter winds

Have settled in the sand

And the crabs

Stay warm

Under the ocean waves

When they leave

Their old shells

To find larger homes

Before summer arrives

The water slips the shells

Onto the shore

When they’re pushed

Close to the little house

On the beach

They nestle themselves

Deep into the dunes

And wait for the snow to fall

So they can begin

To sing through the cold

The night of the first snow

The little woman

Who lives in the house

On the beach

Hears the seashell song

And she opens her windows

And lets the ocean air

Into her little house

The cold catches her

For a moment

But then turns to sea air

Which is cold in a different way

The air takes a form

And sits with the woman

By the fire

And the form becomes

The woman’s mother

Who had been gone

For many years

Because the woman herself

Was quite old

She spoke with her mother

And the two caught up
And shared talk

Of how much

They miss each other

And how much love they still

Even though the woman’s mother

Is now part of the air

Then the form became

The woman’s father

And a similar conversation

Was had between the two

Every person

The little woman in the house

Had ever lost

Came back to visit her

Summoned

By the song of the seashells

The blanket she had

Wrapped around her

Began to freeze

And so she had to reluctantly

Rise from her rocking chair

And close all the windows

The sea air continued

To swirl around her little house

And the song of the seashells

Played through the night

While the little woman

Got into bed

And dreamed the most pleasant

Of dreams

That she had ever dreamt

The next day

The snow was still resting

On the ground

And the little woman

Was resting in her bed

And the water came up

And pulled the shells back in

So it could teach them

A new song

In the summer

Visitors will come

And make their homes

On the beach

In other little homes

And they will traipse in the waves

And swim in their suits

And build sand castles

Filled with sand queens

And sand kings

But in the winter

There is quiet

And the quiet is so quiet

You can hear sounds

You’re not meant to hear

Because you’re not paying attention

To how you listen

You’re simply listening

The music that happens

Underneath us

Is sometimes the most beautiful
Music of all

It plays through the cold

Through the snow

Past the rain

Into the night

And it brings us

Anything we’d like

As long as we open the windows

And allow it

To come sit

Inside

By the fire