Blessing XXXVI

I walked out on the beach,
and there it was, right in my path--
the rare Junonia,
most prized of Sanibel shells,
winking at me in the early morning.

Not a perfect specimen--
the tip gone,
some of the square
brown markings faded,
but of a decent size,
with whorls on the lip,
delicate and heavy
as if carved from stone,
on the inner curve
a lovely sheen.

I could scarcely believe it:
a shell I'd sought for thirty years
and never found was now mine.
It seemed it had come to me
without my looking for it.

So it is, I think, with so much
that we seek:
the thing will reveal itself
only in its time.