Polish Me
by Angela Hunsaker (Copyright 2012)
To look upon a polished stone
And wonder what travail its known.
It's sharpness on the bed is scattered;
Such beauty comes from being battered.
To fully of the sheen partake,
A comparison I yearn to make.
Yet coupled they will ne'er be-
the jagged rock and the stone I see.
The edges lost forever more
Will never leave the soggy floor.
Mourn them not tho' they be spent,
For no purpose truer could they be lent.
Shrunk and torn this pebble may seem,
Yet glorious its newfound gleam.
For it shall shine in that great day
When wickedness will lose the fray.
The more of smoothness shall be found
The more the jewels within thy crown.
So grateful we will ever be
For every grinding force we see.
4 comments:
So beautiful - thanks for sharing.
Just finished reading "A Winter Dream" (a modern day story of Joseph in Egypt) by Richard Paul Evans while I was eating my cereal this morning. The last chapter/epilogue had a wonderful 'letter' about adversity and your poem reminded me of it. We should always be grateful for the things that adversity helps teach us and become - for it being able to remove all those rough edges and make us into something truly remarkable and beautiful.
That's great, Angela.
I'm impressed!
Wow! Love it! It reminds me of a scene I wrote once where the Grandmother compares the girl to a stone whose edges are being worn off. Your imagery is really beautiful! <3
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