“I hold between my hands A crusty ball of chalky white Unopened geode Containing solid wonder of Agate geometries Hidden from my eye but bright in my imaginings. If I dare to split in two this tiny orb Do I tamper with a world? From darkness Far below where I have ever traveled Comes this gift into my life Longingly I let it fill my spaces Its heaviness Invites me to a ground I have been known to see To float above Its wonders Send me soaring with the rapture of the white-winged falcon who is taken by the wind
Self-contained globe You are complete. It is enough to hold you Soft hands on stone To feel your weight And know that in you is all the magic of creation
If there were never any more Still I would be satisfied
And yet your mere existence solid presence challenges me compels me Excites in me my age-old longing to know and to be known.
To risk as in the daily act of living the twisted path of loving What worlds would be opened If we dare to split the stone?
Done carelessly the rock will shatter leaving scattering of sherds that may penetrate and wound A light film of white dust the only reminder
But with tender heads and wise heart We may choose to risk to undertake the process of unfolding the beauty of the core. It cannot be done too quickly A lifetime may be needed to understand the mysteries we find
Let us hold this treasure Let us weigh it even as we cherish it Let us pass it between us and hold it to the light. Then Let us dare To split the stone.”