Every once in a while, during a seeming moment of personal understanding and enlightenment, I find myself compelled to write a poem. These poems seem to have a life of their own; They almost write themselves. Until I finish the poem, the emotion that I am feeling or the intuition that I have reached will not calm down. And when the poem is complete, then I reach deep feelings of satisfaction, a moment of catharsis.
Five years ago, during a life-changing Victories of the Heart retreat, I had one of those climactic moments, which compelled me to write the following poem. It speaks to the part of me that he decided to go on a journey of healing and growth. Even though personal transformation takes its toll on us, we know in our hearts and minds that we really don’t have a choice. Here is my “gem” of a poem:
transformations
I am a rough stone. Longing to be touched Dreaming of being smooth, rounded and glassy.
I am a piece of colorless rubble. Desiring to be hugged and caressed. Wishing to become a treasured part of a beloved rock collection.
I am a sharp rock. Isolated and alone. Need to no longer be a tool Used to cut and divide a person from their very heart.
Today is the day I allow myself to go round and round and round. To be kicked. Trampled into the ground. And dug up again.
The endless cycle of the seasons takes its toll The breezy winds of autumn The icy blizzards of winter The torrential rains of spring And the bleaching sun of summer transform my surface Forever alter my appearance.
After what seems like a lifetime, I find myself resting in a dry river bed. To finally be carefully chosen by a boastful young man, Who sublimely leaps at me across the calm but undulating surface of the river.
Due to honest youthful enthusiasm, I am reconnected with my destiny. Plunging me back into the cold, dark waters of the river, they take me downstream. Swiftly carried with a sense of urgency Toward a tumultuous river of raging whitewater.
Crashing violently against unforgiving rocks. I start to lose necessary parts of myself.
Pushed lower and lower Submerged deep to the bottom of the river, I lie asleep for years stretching on with no apparent end point.
In a torrential downpour and gale-force winds, I am carried from my murky, muddy, silt-filled home, to be tossed wildly in stormy waters.
With a tremendous taste of wind and resultant wave, I am hurled towards the shore To be perfectly positioned on a path where a dreamy wandering boy is exploring the river bank in search of his perfect jewel of stone.
And during this magnificent and bright summer day, the bright rays of the afternoon sun hit me so perfectly that my surface bursts with striking resplendent flashes.
Capturing the attention of this adventurous and seeker child. Who stops, notices, stars, and lifts me up.
With the thrill of discovery, The child carefully examines my translucent glass surface, He marvels at the colors of my rainbow, He caresses my smooth contours. And with a burst of pride he places me in his shirt pocket to always be close to his heart.
