"You will open like a flower", I was told
under the gentle care of a lover's smiling sun
and his tender tilling of your garden
watering you with his loving
spreading your petals
I don't know when these flowers lived
with their gentle gardeners
I think it must have been in the Paleozoic,
Or was it the Mesozoic?
I know it was Before-me-a-zoic.
These days as the flowers bloom
they get covered fast by the weight of years
layers of civilization's crap in a crushing load
squeezes any hint of tenderness from their buds
humanity's shit heap, crushing any life
The unexpected twists of fate gather up some
And fold them in the pressure-cooker of metamorphosis
Carbon lumps they are fired in the furnace of stress and time
Hard diamonds of potential with the flower locked within
Sometimes a Master finds such a hardened lump
smiles and sees into its heart
Here is the cleft line that will free what is within
Strike too swiftly and all could be lost in dust
But strike just once and the beauty will start to be freed
A diamond without fault lines is useless for gem stones
The Master finds what he wants and carves away the rest
At last the lost and crushed flower blooms warmly in his hand
a jewel he has found and earned.
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