Glass

What once was shattered; sharp and merciless,
Is now smooth and harmless, without offense,
But before it knew the raging waters,
It was marred and broken with much contempt.
 
With no place to rest and lacking in purpose,
It chose to withdraw to its one safe place; self.
It would wound the most defenseless of creatures,
In haphazard attempts to defend itself.
 
One day, by chance, to the waters edge it came,
And it lapped upon this sharp-edged sight,
And drew it in yet ever deeper,
To the blackest abyss of dark, dark night.
 
It was in this deep and unfamiliar place,
That it was held in tender, loving hands,
And all defenses were smoothed away,
As love and time healed; water and sand.
 
The motion of waters it once feared became,
To its surprise, a joyous delight,
For it found rest in the shaping and making,
Of its existence into new purpose and life.
 
Now you may find it washed up on the beaches,
Don't be surprised if you recognize it not,
For what was once the most broken of pieces,
Has, through the waves, become an object of delight.