The sweet smooth texture of its composition catches in the light of day, and moon, shining its white glow to catch my sight and mind as I stoop to retrieve it from its dusty home, wiping it with the soft edge of my white woollen jumper, I can feel its vibrations move up along my fingers, across my palm and up along my arm. Its so small and yet I can’t help to want it. The moment I saw it, I felt that it was mine and so I had already, within my mind, taken it for myself. Watching it sit in the centre of my hand, it does nothing but shine.
For many it has no voice, no character,
but for me it is like falling into a pool at the bottom of some raging waterfall, ducking and diving in the rippling swales emanating from the foaming cascade of rushing water, yes this tiny object, is just like that for me. I bring it up close to my eyes, to imagine its history of how it came to be, how it revealed itself to my path. With one last imagining before I continue on my way, I smile a smile filled with joy and thrill as I slip it into the deep blue denim of my Jeans pocket knowing that for now it remains safe and after my short sojourn will take its place amongst others of its kind in their ornate glass jar, sat atop the mantle shelf where I gaze daily at their combined beauty.