Gemstones
#4 of Poetry
The wars waged upon the earth for trinkets. It is perfectly fine, the baubles are beautiful. Just remember!
A pestilence of diamonds, Each brilliant in its cut, and hewn From grander specimens than what You wear atop your finger. Encrust in gold each pale moon tear, Each drop of sunlight crystalized; From ev'ry gem, a universe inside.
I beseech thee--hide away! Slip your stones beneath the rug, Or in some secret little box you stow Between the sugar and the flour. You cannot let a single soul, Not father, lover, or child know That you keep near your heart, in amber, A galaxy enshrined.
We will fight! We will tear! We will rip apart your countries! To till the soil roughly and so angrily, Just for a glimpse at a world Where we have not encouraged earthen eugenics, Which displace our equals For the sake of purity in stone.
There are graves that we can dance upon, And winds that we may spit into, Far better use of time, I think, Than slamming fist and pick-axe down Into earthmother, who grants us life, And in return we rape her riches To wear but once and toss aside, Deep beneath linen, mummified treasures! Each domicile a pirate's chest, A sheetrock temple free to plunder.
Oh please! Please listen, do not despair-- Your gems are beautiful, and rare! We do not want to take away these things, But merely hold them to the light And let escape prismatic beams of truth. You wear upon your ears and necks, And other body parts unmentioned, The seeds of many great new paths-- To dig them up is to besmirch The branching ways And tendril'd roads That each universe can soon unveil If we would only look inside A ruby or an emerald.