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
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