Circles
I should like to be
A diamond
A chunk of trampled charcoal,
Crushed in the noblest of ways,
In the metal fists of ancient mountains.
Wrenched from the deepest ravine,
Shuddering and trembling in the light of the sun,
Whose fiery arms ricochet and blast my light
Against that naked mountainside.
Pushed upon a naked finger,
Where I will live and I will die,
But sparkle first and foremost.
I shall return back to the earth from whence I came,
To rest around a skinny bone
Beneath the ground, Beneath the ancient mountains. |