The Shell

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The journey of the shell is long,

Long enough to say that it was a traveler all along.


The shell begins its travel under the sea :

It moves again and again, in the sand

Life begins with the water and its beauty

And the shell rolls like the carousel of this land.


Then the shell experiences the air

For the first time it is tossed like a merry-go-round

By the wind that seems to go nowhere

And the shell discovers the beach and all its sounds


Finally the shell is taken by a hand

Only to hear that it will be beautiful again

And it has to say goodbye to its ancient home

Not knowing it belongs to a magical metronome


The shell ends up in a lighthouse of peace and joy

In which it feels something in its body

The hand was painting all this radiancy

And the shell was displayed for the world to enjoy


Its authenticity

And its alchemy. 

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