Rock Solid
A trapped dead soul glitters;
a diamond, sealed carbon
memory.
Hard, mute and motionless,
never again
swollen and pulsing with seething sap.
The tree, the leaf, the organic body fused.
I might weep for the mountain,
the rock, the diamond, for the idea of them
but, no, my mind and the mountain sustain each other.
My mind climbs the mountain,
stands on its summit reading the words
inscribed there by wind and rain and time.
We are one.
your flesh..
I will make of you a diamond.
Look inside
and find enlightenment,
a solid solace.
~ patsy mcAuley
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