Monthly Archives: July 2015

Why I Treasure Sea Glass

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I’d guess a lot of people like sea glass. It’s charming and kind of “shabby chic”, which is en vogue right now.
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But I think there’s special magic in sea glass, and also a gift from God.
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Sea glass begins as a human-created thing, a useful container, or some pretty object that someone designed or manufactured. Then it is discarded in reckless fashion. (throwing trash at or near the sea bespeaks laziness or bad stewardship) Or perhaps it is simply lost, again hinting at a casual lack of concern, and, on a larger scale intimating a disposable culture of things.
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The ocean swallows this detritus and devours some entirely. Occasionally the ocean gives a small portion back though…after licking it. Lapping at it. Lolling it around in it’s ominous maw and tasting it with it’s rough or tender tongue. Then the sea belches up a further refined creation, that has almost been uncreated or recreated into a new thing entirely.
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Sea glass speaks of:
Permanence – it has survived this far.
Impermanence – it bears the marks of time and is still on its way to decay.
Diversity – of hue, shape, size and frequency.
Ruggedness – scarred yet persevering.
Malleability – it is caught in the midst of metamorphosis. Transformation trapped in time.
Mystery – what was it originally? Where did it come from? How long has the ocean held it? Why did I find it? (Or why did it reveal itself to me?)
Preciousness – like any gem, precious or semi-precious, it is now a gift from the the earth.
Possibility – what can I, or will I choose to do with this found beauty?
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Sea glass is a gift of hope to me from God. What is old can be made new. What was pedestrian can be made magical. What was parochial can become exotic. What was forgotten refuse is now a beautiful, precious mystery that I can hold in my hand.
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Like all gifts which are given freely, I may even choose to turn around and gift a piece into your hand. In which case, we would be friends. And we could hope together.
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Our most perfect hopes will never fail us!
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Jeff Jenkins


Ghost Doll

My eyes are vacant
(You won’t find me there)
I’ve hidden my pains
All my gains
So far underground
They are ghosts now
Not the kind you can summon

A doll’s life for me
(I’m hiding in there)
All plastic and beads
Spastic with needs
That can’t be made to talk
Not the kind you can pull by a string

I’m a real girl tho
(Or am I still there?) 
A woman in full
One with the pull
Of the pain that makes me
More real than the baby you knew

I turn it off
I turn it on
I am real!
Ghosts can’t feel!
But I am clearly
Living and giving and
I won’t be set
On a shelf

I declare myself
Alive!!!


Jeff Jenkins