Ingrid Showalter Swift Poet Free verse

As Broken As a Petal In Your Hand

I didn't think anyone would ever argue that I am broken
Life has thrown up one too many challenges to me
I survived but I suppose i am more like magma from
Volcano
I am like molten rock that's been aerated by fire
I am to be fertile soil eventually
I still have fire in my soul but my substance has been burnt out
I lack  beauty
I am ash
I'm told Ash makes great fertilizer
Perhaps I can fertilize your soil
with words
Tired and accelerated ... exhilarated
 it rises 
and I see it cresting through my window. 
And as it does
I feel as if I am brand new
Granite and limestone 
and I am gold 
I am frankincense and I am Mir
Lines on the mountains 
I am a  million years old
I am 600 million years old
I am worn but I'm like that white rock you find on the beach
You can't help but respect the beauty of the lines that show up in a rock
jostled and beaten and tormented by the sea

I am purely round and all of my edges are gone
I am no fairy tale nor whimsical dream 

 this small white rock "knows"

pumice that from Volcano was born 
 only to become ash and then to become soil 
and then become the  fodder 
forth from 
new life
Small rock
Big Story

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