I comb the beach at dawn and search the sand

For some treasure the sea might offer me,

But all I find is a clump of yarn

Tangled up with trash and seaweed.

For years I searched, longed for something rare,

A starfish or a special kind of shell.

I'd settle for a clam or oyster.

Some of them are beautiful,

Or even the legendary one set of footprints

That would prove to me

That Jesus had in fact carried me

Through my toughest times.

But what I really dreamed of finding,

The thing that I wished for 

And wanted more than anything else,

Was a sand dollar.

Today I found five of them,

Tucked away in a box in the top of a closet.

I bought the whole shebang for two dollars and fifty cents with my own money 

At an estate sale I'd wandered into.

No, I didn't find them on the beach,

But, no less, I found them.

And maybe they are more precious

To me, ever more the wanted,

Because I understand now how cherished I have been.

I have been wanted so perfectly

That it has set me free 

From any situations where I'm not wanted thoroughly.

And I will keep my sand dollars out

And touch them everyday,

And think of the one-sided beach

And it's unyielding, stingy nature,

And remember to keep combing 

The fertile and copious abundance

Of the laissez-faire estate sales.

-jenn