304 Colorful Rocks


There comes a time when
Beaten down the fine grains be,
Washed in seas most harsh and grey,
Piled upon a harder land.

Wishing that it would not be,
I know the reason for it:
The grains stack one by one,
Together, hiding secrets.

They cover up my heart,
The knowing hope within;
Each grain will shelter love
And force me to the depths.

There in time, the crystals bloom
Bigger with each passing eon,
Hardening to diamond crust
That waits an eternity to pass.

Mayhap the wizened prospector
Seeking a thing unknown
Will find a wretched globe of rock
And crack it open to the world.

It will glitter in new sunlight
And so sparkle for a future eye,
The beauty of that single heart
Brought back from buried past.

Jim Glines ©2013



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