Oysters

Dear Readers,

I fear that I have become hopelessly cheesy and symbolic with this poem. I trust that you will pray to whomever you pray that I will soon get over my writers block and write a real story that is in fact better told.
With best wishes and love, I now present one of my newest pieces of writing.

Oysters

By: Eric Pratt

Here, they wonder why the storm comes,

or why the sand is stirred.

Each one opens to a boundless ocean for life, and in comes sand.

They cannot help it.

So buried inside, are grains of sand.

Why the storm comes, it does not matter.

The sand has been stirred, even as for life, they each opened.

They now carry a life-bond with a grain of sand. 

And somehow, it becomes a pearl.

Here, they wonder why the trials came,

Why they changed, or how they survived.

They open themselves to a boundless ocean, and in they come.

They cannot help it.

So with sand and trials inside, a miracle happens.

Why trials came, they cannot imagine.

Their lives were stirred, and now they are stronger.

They love each grain and trial, as they cherish each blessing.

And there it is, a pearl.

White and beautiful is the pearl, 

As is the life that has been lived.

The trials will come, in opening to a boundless life,

It cannot be helped.

So buried inside, each trial, a pearl.