She had a jar full of wonder,
Filled with sand, soil and thunder.
Wherever she’d been she would collect a bit of it,
Mud from the hollows deep or breeze from a day well-lit.
That rusted jar travelled the world with her,
To shatter in pieces across the shore astir.
Swept by the wind and swallowed by the sea.
That world now dwells deep within the ocean gloom and glee,
Filled with sand, soil, tears and thunder because she set it free.
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