POTENTIAL’S PLAY

There’s a stillness between what’s dreamed and done,

Like the space before the rising sun.

You trace a shape that might have been,

And I breathe in the salt and wind.

We talk of plans, half-formed and bright,

They shimmer, drift, then fade from sight.

But something sacred stays behind—

A glimmer caught within the tide.

We should be happy with the sea glass we find,

Shaped by the years, softened by time.

Not trying to piece the bottles again,

Just hold the fragments, let them shine.

All that we almost were, still sings,

Inside the quiet of these things.

Every spark begins unsure,

A fragile promise, pure and blurred.

You smile like you already know—

Potential is the art of slow.

The world keeps asking for what’s next,

But maybe beauty’s what’s un-expressed.

The way the ocean hums restraint,

The kiss that almost knows it can’t.

We should be happy with the sea glass we find,

Shaped by the waves, tempered by time.

The edges dull, the colors true,

Each piece once broken, now something new.

All that we never reached still gleams,

In the half-light of our dreams.

Some things stay perfect by staying undone,

Like a chord that fades before it’s sung.

Maybe love was built to ache—

A promise water can’t remake.

Chorus 3 / Final

We should be happy with the sea glass we find,

Not chase the bottles left behind.

In every shard, the world refrains—

A tender cut that still remains.

All that we almost touched still shines,

And maybe that’s what makes it divine.

You turn, and the light bends through your hair,

Like sea glass glinting in the air.

We stand between the was and might,

And call that space our kind of life.