Reflection Cube

Three-dimensional thoughts

Where Shadows Sleep

 

I am a pile of carbon, buried deep
In the hidden vaults of earth, 
Where shadows sleep.

The magma burns me - 
Peeling at my skin, my face.
And when its work is done, 
There shall not be a trace
Of the piece I was before.

Isolated, nameless,
In this massive pile of stone,
I'm entrapped without contact
Deep in the earth - alone.
As my soul is pressed
And melted to the bone.

Surely to this fire and stress
There must be some reward.
For all these seeming setbacks,
Something that I'm moving toward.

In time - refined and polished -
As a diamond I'll emerge.
With identity and meaning
Forged through torment I endured.

I am a pile of carbon, buried deep
In the hidden vaults of earth, 
Where shadows sleep. 


© 2017 Kate Richardson All Rights Reserved






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3 Comments

  1. A Chicken

    Is it the opulent glimmer of a diamond that makes it beautiful, or is it the knowledge of the unimaginable heat and pressure it has endured and survived?

    Would a diamond prefer to be unquestioningly admired, or dissected and understood?

    • Wow. Awesome questions. Perhaps meant rhetorically, but I think I would answer with “the latter” to both.

      • A Chicken

        I care to know and understand a diamond, although it remains beautiful to me no matter how it wishes to be seen.

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