Ostrich Egg

Hushhh

Take your hands

And hold your mind

And hold it very still

Focus on my words

Whisper, if you will

A fragile shell

With speckled spots

Spots of brown

And kind, mild thoughts

That if rubbed, will be forgot

Rub and rub

Yet, persists, the dot

Of that mean old nasty thought

Shame and blame parade around

Cracking Shell’s most fertile ground

Hurt, tortured, unbound,

But with one big breath  

Of lungs-filling breadth

The shell is simply healed.