Ordinary Precious Stones

Ordinary Precious Stones Buddha saw it first but as is his way never let me in on it. The stones, rough, unfinished, ill sized tribute to chaos, beckoned. I closed my eyes It started to take shape in the mist. Each stone should have its place separate yet dependent on the others. They should not attract attention for themselves but become a part of a greater beauty. I touched each stone, listened to its passion, rolled it, positioned it so the sun would augment its finest facets. Allowing them time to adjust, to relate themselves one to another. When each stone hummed in wind coaxed OMMMMM I rested, placed the Buddha in the midst of these, now precious, stones. Each morning I look out on the Buddha in the midst of his rock garden, see the sun creep over his shoulder glancing off the facets of those most ordinary precious stones. Submitted to – Precious Stones and Gems – Poetry contest Sponsor – Anthony Slausen 11/14/2014